Retethered
by theweaknessinme
Summary: Takes place during Untethered between the time the ambulance leaves Tates and up to Goren's disciplinary hearing. This story is completed with Chapter 15.
1. Recovery

**Re-covery**

She didn't remember screeching the Suburban to a stop.

She didn't remember flipping the keys to the Captain.

And she didn't remember flying across the parking lot and squeezing through the closing doors of the Emergency Room entrance.

Heads turned to the rapid slapping of leather soles as the petite figure in a leather jacket hurled

down the hallway, her blonde hair flying behind her.

Alex came up behind the rapidly moving ambulance attendants who were pushing her partner on a stretcher. Her thoughts were a tumble of fear and near panic.

_How could this have happened in such a short time?_

It was for good reason she and the Captain had driven all night to get to Tates Correctional Facility. Alex's face had been as if carved in stone as they met with the prison warden. If she hadn't shut down most of her emotions, she would have leapt across the desk and slapped that smug holier-than-thou expression off the warden's face. Thank God Ross had done the talking.

Every one of Alex's nerves began jangling as they left the warden's office to await Goren's release in the entrance hall. She knew they were going to catch the crap big-time for this and she began bracing herself for the blast to come. But right now she was mostly relieved that Bobby was going to be out of this hell hole.

Alex and Ross waited less than patiently in the prison entrance for the paper work to be finished. Ross said nothing, just paced, the clip of his feet on the marble floor echoing in the silence. Alex knew he was working on a plan to mitigate the damage of the situation, and at the same time he was starting a slow boil over Goren's actions. His scowl was an easy tell.

Time dragged on. Forty-five minutes later, the warden's assistant came to tell them there was "a bit of a problem". William Brady, as she knew him, had become ill and was being taken by ambulance to the local hospital.

_What the...?_

The assistant handed Alex a paper bag containing the clothes and items Goren had been carrying when he was arrested and recommended they follow the ambulance.

Alex's concern about the impending disciplinary actions dissolved into worried confusion. She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd reacted to some prison food, although he could eat Italian food in all amounts and forms and only need the occasional antacid. Surely that didn't call for an ambulance? No, something more serious had happened behind those grim walls.

Alex and the Captain left the cold brick building and stepped into the warm brightening morning. Alex shivered, rubbing her hands together as she headed for the Suburban's driver's seat. They waited across the street from the service entrance. She'd be happy if she never saw this place again. The gate opened and the ambulance slowly left the prison grounds. Alex glanced at Ross and was unable to hide the distress on her face. Even Ross looked unhappy. Alex pulled in behind the ambulance.

The worry she'd felt when Goren had not checked in by phone yesterday had been steadily growing until they knew he was being released. But now she was alarmed.

Goren had entered the prison specifically to find out if inmates were being mistreated, even tortured, in the Mental Observation unit. Alex was certain he had discovered the answer. His instincts were seldom wrong. This time his method of getting his answers was.

The Suburban closely matched the steady pace of the ambulance till suddenly the ambulance accelerated away from them. Its siren and flashing lights switched on seconds later. The increasing pitch of the ambulance siren matched the adrenaline pumping into Alex's bloodstream. Her face went blank and she automatically straightened, flicked on her own flashing light and accelerated. In less than a minute they pulled into the hospital's Emergency entrance.

And now as she reached her partner's side, a wave of shock hit her hard. She felt her face go cold. She kept her mask in place to anyone observing her, but couldn't ignore her physiological reaction at the sight of him.

Robert Goren lay on the stretcher, eyes closed. His face was deeply flushed and through the transparent oxygen mask she could see his lips were badly cracked and bloody. He was clothed in stained dark green prison clothing. He hadn't shaved since the last time she'd seen him and his short prison-cut hair was matted to his head from dried sweat. She could hardly believe what she was seeing. _Something awful had happened._

She stammered, not knowing what to say. "Bobby, you're okay. You're in the hospital. You're out of Tates."

And then she choked out the words, "I'm here". She hoped he would know who "I" was. Most importantly she wanted to get across to him that he was safe and wasn't alone. Someone he could trust was taking care of things.

Although his eyes didn't open, his face turned towards her voice. Alex's own face drew up in a swift wince which was quickly replaced by her emotionless mask.

She followed closely as they wheeled him into the trauma room where several nurses and doctors seemed to appear from nowhere. It took six of them to transfer the limp Goren from the ambulance stretcher, which under different circumstances would have amused her. The ambulance attendants were reporting stats to the hospital staff who were in constant motion as they listened; one cutting off Goren's shirt, one swiftly attaching heart monitor leads to his broad exposed chest, another substituting a nasal cannula for the oxygen mask, and another searching for a vein for an intravenous line. _Beep, beep, beep._

"He's left-handed", Alex volunteered, thinking it would be better for the IV to be in his right arm.

"That's okay" was the reply, "We're not going to get a vein in his arm anyway. He's too dehydrated".

The doctor looked over her shoulder at Alex. "Are you his wife?"

"No", replied Alex, "his partner." absently reaching down to tap her badge. But it wasn't on her belt.

"Close enough."

Fine, thought Alex, I'll play whatever it takes to get what I want.

"Any allergies or medications?"

Alex quickly thought and replied "Only a cat allergy". Other than the occasional analgesic, over the counter or over the bar, she had never seen him take anything in the eight years she'd been with him.

"Any non-prescription drug use?"

"No"

"Where is the prison detail?" the doctor asked the ambulance attendants.

"He's an undercover cop" replied the driver.

"Yes?" queried the doctor with another quick glance over her shoulder at Alex, her attention more on her stethoscope against Goren's chest.

"Yes" replied Alex.

"Does anyone know what's been happening to this man?" The doctor's voice was raised and urgent, questioning the ambulance attendants hovering near the door.

Then the doctor was again turning towards Alex and asking "Are you all right?" Alex stared at the doctor as her vision narrowed and darkened to everything except the doctor's face.

_Beep, beep, beep._


	2. Reaction

**Re-action**

When they saw Alex's face whitening, the doctor and ambulance driver quickly reached steadying hands to grasp her arms and carefully sat her down in a nearby chair. The doctor immediately returned to Goren, while the driver made sure Alex was not going to faint. He kindly went to get her a drink of water and handed her a paper cup. The contents felt warm in her icy hands. She was too distracted to feel any embarrassment she would normally have felt.

It didn't take long before the heart monitor was showing Goren's rapid heartbeat and the subclavian IV was inserted. Blood was drawn and sent to the lab. They were noting his high temperature with concern. 105º F. His body couldn't cool itself due to the dehydration. Heat stroke and dehydration were a deadly combination when left unattended and they were not sure how long he'd been in this condition.

The doctor walked over to the still-seated Alex and sat down opposite her, speaking quietly. "We're extremely concerned about your partner. We're waiting for the blood results before we treat him further, but he appears to be severely dehydrated, with heat stroke as well as bruising and cuts. It looks like he was restrained; do you know anything about that?" Alex shook her head. "No? We're concerned about his kidneys and the possibility of seizures or heart failure. Is there any family history of diabetes or heart conditions?"

"No", breathed Alex, Those were two things she knew the Gorens had escaped, but her own chest was tightening as the doctor spoke.

"We're worried about acute renal failure, so we'll insert a catheter to monitor his fluid output and cool him off while we wait for the results of the blood tests. He may need dialysis, but we'll see how he reacts to being rehydrated first. We need you to sign some permission forms over at admissions. We'll be calling the infirmary at Tates for more information and request his medical information from…… which police department is he with?"

"NYPD Major Case", replied Alex and the doctor's eyebrows rose. This policeman was a long way from home.

"He'll be fine for the few minutes you're gone".

"Thank you, Doctor, I'll be right back", she said in the most matter-of-fact voice she could find.

Alex rose carefully from the chair, relieved her display of weakness hadn't been observed by anyone she knew; family or colleagues. She wasn't going to be much use here if she didn't keep it together. The doctor made sure Alex was steady and went back to Goren.

Alex remembered with a jolt that Captain Ross was somewhere in the hospital. She retraced her steps down the busy entrance hallway at a much more careful pace this time and found him at the admissions desk.

"How is he?" Ross asked brusquely, not making eye contact with Alex.

"Not good." she replied, also not meeting his eyes. She did her best to disguise the distress in her voice.

"I've signed the necessary paperwork for the moment. You're his medical proxy, aren't you? Good. That paperwork will have to be faxed up. I'm taking the Suburban back to the city. When you're ready, rent a car and come back." He didn't say with or without Goren, but it hung in the air between them. "You have a department credit card?"

"Yes."

"Is there anyone we should be calling?" Ross' voice was tinged with irony.

"No. I'll take care of it, Captain." said Alex quietly.

"Do you have anything in the car? No? Keep me informed. And try to get some rest." Ross turned and left without asking to see Goren.

Alex watched him stride out of the building and she slowly turned back towards Emergency. It would be easier without him around, but….

She was alone. And it was happening again. Her shoulders sagged. She'd done this before and couldn't believe _it was happening yet again_. All the frustrations she'd felt when Joe was dying, her inability to change things, were flooding back. Part of her wanted to leave; walk out the door with Ross and not deal with the uncertainty, not deal with the hospital vigil, not deal with any gut-wrenching anguish. The smells, the lighting, the sounds of the hospital all reminded her of the loss of Joe.

She mentally shook herself. She seldom thought much about it now. It was a long time ago. And yet it had come to the surface much too recently to dismiss. True to form, if you presented a puzzle to Robert Goren, he couldn't help but solve it. With fresh eyes and his usual knack, he had found the real villain in Joe's murder. Unfortunately in solving the puzzle, he had re-opened the whole investigation, and at the same time re-opened wounds she was sure she'd healed. Her mask of anger had served her well that week, but when it had slipped, she hoped only Bobby had seen behind. And even that was one too many viewers.

She swallowed and tightened her lips. But this wasn't Joe. She tried to reassure herself that this was different. It was Bobby. Bobby was alive and breathing and she'd do everything possible to get him back.

And she wouldn't leave. She couldn't leave.

She strode back down the hallway towards Emergency.


	3. Review

**Re-view**

When Alex stepped back into the curtained area in Emergency, Bobby was alone. He was laying flat with his feet slightly elevated and the monitors, attached to the seemingly endless coils of wires, shared his inner life.

_Beep, beep, beep._

They had moved a fan into position to circulate air across his body. His eyes remained closed, his cheeks still flushed. He was now clad in only a light sheet draped over him. They had placed ice packs in his arm pits and over his groin. She could just hear her brother's exclamations of feigned horror at that. She pulled the chair she'd used earlier close beside the bed and sat down facing him.

She hardly recognized him. In spite of the knot in her stomach, or perhaps to ease it with a distraction, she began studying the unguarded Robert Goren.

She'd only seen him completely relaxed a couple of times when he'd fallen asleep beside her in the car, during a long drive at the end of a case. The first time it had happened, she'd almost driven off the road in surprise. She had been so tempted to pull over and study him. He looked so vulnerable. In a strange way she was flattered that he would let his guard down so completely with her. She smiled gently at that memory. She wasn't sure how he'd react to knowing she'd been so fascinated.

She often noticed his long eyelashes, but they were more visible now against the delicate skin under his eyes. They were dark at the base, becoming sandy coloured and curled at the tips so the light had to be just right to see them. His normally expressive and active brow, which had become such a tell to her, was still and smooth. Her lips curved into another tiny smile, knowing his flattened matted hair would appal him if he was awake. Even with the grey, that very long stubble might look just a bit of okay with a little tending. Right now that stubble was close to being termed a beard and was almost as long as the hair above his ears. His prison haircut had stolen almost all signs of curls. She heaved a small sigh at that hair. No amount of time at a salon would ever give her hair like that. It just didn't seem fair. And the grey was so… so distinguished. It had crept in more noticeably over the last difficult year. When she first began working with him, the sprinkling of grey was merely an occasional glint if the light caught it just right.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and crossed her arms on top as she continued to study his face, memorizing each detail. As he had gained weight, the line from the corner of his eye across his cheek to his jaw line had become less pronounced. But with just the right expression, it would show again. She wasn't sure why that was so attractive. Somehow the whole package together could take her breath away. Maybe it was a combination of the look and the intellect.

She just knew that he was most amazing when he was in the middle of an animated interview and began his predatory dance. He would, in a split second, change any combination of physically ducking, weaving and bullying into mental intimidation, manipulation and disarming empathy as he re-assessed his strategy. No matter how long she partnered with him, she would never truly know where he was taking an interview unless he gave her some warning first. She had quickly learned to adapt to his dance – to be as mentally light on her feet as she could be, because he'd often need her to step briefly into that dance with perfect timing. So far, she didn't think she'd disappointed him. And she loved that she was the one who shared the dance with him. She was never bored and there was the "high" she would feel at the "gotcha" moment. It was addicting. It was the dance that kept her coming back.

_Beep, beep, beep._

When Alex realized what she was doing, she stopped herself.

She didn't need to memorize Bobby's face or take a trip down memory lane. This was not the last time she would see him. This was not Joe. History could not repeat itself. She willed her thinning mask to rebuild, which comforted her, and she began noting details as a professional, not as… someone else.

She didn't need confirmation that he was dehydrated, she had seen his skin was dry, unable to sweat, and had retained its pucker when the doctor had pinched it.

Bruises were starting to show around his neck and there was a bad one across his right collarbone. Alex supposed that guards would perceive him as a threat just because of his size. Her eyes slid down to his wrists where the skin was torn and raw and some bruising was starting to appear. She stood, walked to the foot of the bed and lifted the edge of the sheet which draped him to uncover one of his ankles. The same thing. Where the skin wasn't red, it was bruised and ripped open. Her brows knit together in a frown as she gently replaced the sheet over his foot. Big foot. Bigfoot. That was one of the dangers of working with Robert Goren, you learned to start making random associations in the hope that one hits home and becomes a path to solving a puzzle. Of course, her leaps often tended towards the sarcastic and ironic observations.

She resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on his foot as she would have done to her nephew when he had boo-boos. Yes, Bobby had been roughly treated – and restrained. And he had struggled against those restraints. She put both hands up to rub her forehead and hide her face as she imagined what state he'd been in to get this way. It was almost beyond what she could imagine of the Robert Goren she knew. Only someone fighting hard would have these wounds. He could not control what happened to him in Tates – and this showed her he had been frightened and desperate. _Oh, God! What had they done to him? Why had she let him go? She should have raised the alarm sooner. She should have known things were not good from the sound of his voice over the phone. She should have stopped it before it started._

_Beep, beep, beep._

_Think!_

She didn't need to add an examination of his pelvis to know that everything she was seeing on Goren matched the markings on Jay Lowry, the young man whose body they'd examined in M.E. Rodger's morgue. It had been the confirmation they'd needed to convince them that something was seriously amiss at Tates.

Alex was wondering whether to call Rodgers for more of the autopsy details when one of the nurses pushed aside the privacy curtain and spoke to Alex.

"We're moving him up to ICU till he stabilizes." _At least something is happening._

The nurse and an orderly fussed over the equipment for a minute preparing to move Goren's bed and then they were on their way to the elevator. Alex followed behind feeling helpless.

They left the bustle and constant noises of the ER for the hushed hallways of the third floor Intensive Care Unit. Her partner was rolled into a small glass fronted room where they re-hooked him to new monitors. They checked the ice packs surrounding him, noted his body temperature and one of them began setting up the fan.

It was so wrong to see someone so vital and animated lying so still. He had not responded to anything since he had moved his head at the sound of her voice. She clenched her teeth, but the bleeps of the monitors reassured her and she willed her jaw to relax. Alex stood at the foot of the bed looking at Goren, her arms crossed. It was not her usual crossed arm stance. These crossed arms were a self hug.

_Beep, beep, beep._

The nurse leaned forward to look at Alex's face behind her swing of hair and smiled gently. "It's okay to touch him" she encouraged. Alex's eyes flicked up to the nurse's face, but she had no verbal reply to that. _We don't touch._

"How is he?" Alex asked. She only wanted to know if the answer was positive.

"He's a bit cooler, but it looks like his kidneys still aren't working" she said, as her eyes dropped to the empty urine collection bag attached to the side of the bed. "The doctor will be in soon to give you more information. Just make yourself comfortable. The ladies' room is down the hall to your left. Are you hungry? I can probably find you a snack. There is a blanket in the cabinet here if you're cold. Is there anyone we can call for you?"

Alex replied she was fine and thanked the nurse. Food did not hold any attraction, but she did find a blanket and wrapped it around herself as she sat down in the nearby armchair. This would be her position for many hours to come.

_Beep, beep, beep._


	4. Retouch

**Re-touch**

The doctor came and went with no new information, only noting Goren's body temperature and the swelling in his feet and legs caused by the build up of IV fluid which his kidneys were refusing to excrete. The hours folded one into another. Alex signed some forms. Nurses came and went, changing his ice packs and physically check him.

Alex remained on the chair with her knees up, arms wrapped around her ankles, watching her partner breathe. One nurse came in and handed her a small tube of ointment.

"I'll let you rub this over his lips every hour or so. It will help with the healing."

Alex was glad the nurse didn't notice the look on her face. Yes, obviously she had been incorrectly noted as a "domestic partner" to the hospital staff. At least she could stay without question. The nurse lowered the guard rail on the side of the bed so Alex could get close and then left the room.

Alex looked at the tube of ointment and looked at Bobby. They never touched, except for a very occasional bump and not even that in recent years. It was over the top professionalism, but it worked for them.

It had started because she just didn't want to give him the wrong idea. She'd seen other partnerships self-destruct when they had crossed the line and become involved. But it didn't always end badly either… Goren had easily and immediately matched her lead. His head was so in the clouds for the first few months they worked together, it was a miracle he noticed her existence.

She had always been surprised when he would deliberately reach out and touch her - it was always to attract her attention, although he had absently clapped her on the back once and almost winded her. That one-of-the-guys gesture from someone over a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than she had never happened again. After a while she began to notice he would touch everyone else but her. Carver, Deakins and even the file delivery clerk would merit a touch, a simple hand on the arm. Unlike Goren, if they were relaxed and discussing something, Carver had no qualms about leaning back with his arm stretched easily across the back of her chair. Deakins had hugged her when he learned of her surrogate pregnancy. But Robert Goren kept his distance.

In a funny way, instead of touching, they had substituted a language of exchanged looks. At first the glances were a check to see if the other partner had taken note of something. But as time went on, and they _knew_ the other had made the observation, the look was to confirm their sentiments were in synch. If they were in unity, support from the other was assured and they took the next step in their dance.

They had become experts at reading each other when they were "discussing" a case. But he was abysmal at reading her personal feelings. Mind you, she did her best to keep her mask in place, even to him. She shared only emotions relative to the case, usually disgust at the behaviours and twisted values they saw in the people they dealt with. She was a master at pointing out the ironies of human behaviour.

It was just as well they had developed their non-verbal language, because the department rumour mill could have made things incredibly uncomfortable for them. No one could accuse them of any visible impropriety. There was no _invisible _impropriety, but as their ability to work extremely well together became more evident to their colleagues, so had the voyeuristic scrutiny of their partnership.

When she had returned from maternity leave, Goren had touched her more in the span of a few days than ever before – or since. She had been surprised, amused and warmed by what could only be perceived as his show of pleasure at her return. It was like he had his favourite toy back. If the guys in the squad room had noticed, they had only kidded her that it was a damn good thing she'd come back or Goren would have killed Bishop, his temporary partner.

_It had been so good to be back at work after her maternity leave. _At work she could become completely absorbed, almost forgetting that beautiful tiny boy they had allowed her to hold only too briefly before he was swept away by his loving parents. Try as she might, she would never forget the emptiness she'd experienced that day. She was left with a body that had changed suddenly from being the center of the universe, to being an empty vessel - with an empty heart to match. So she built a wall around those memories, just as she had built one around Joe's death.

Until Robert Goren had so recently knocked that wall down. Her mask had slipped badly when Kevin Quinn had been murdered and Joe's case was re-opened. Bobby had needed to tread on pins and needles when he'd been near her. The timing had been horrible so soon after Frances Goren's death. Alex should have been the strong one and eased her partner back into work, not struggle angrily against him. She still felt guilty about that. He was only doing his job in the best way he knew - he shouldn't even have been at work, much less partnered with her as she rode emotional waves of painful memories and frustrations. He tried so hard to read her feelings and appeal to her reason, knowing there was little chance of making it easier for her no matter what he did.

He had helped hold up her mask and buffered her from the rest of the squad. He had called her Alex for the first time, touching her gently with his quiet husky voice. That unexpected tenderness had almost tipped her into sobs right there in front of both Bobby and Rodgers. His presence became a soothing balm at the end when her truths as she'd known them for 9 years were dissolving. As usual, he had gotten to the real truth when no one else could.

And when it was over he had walked her for miles, taken her home mentally and physically exhausted and silently moved in on her couch for two days.

But he hadn't touched her.

_Beep, beep, beep._

She hadn't even touched him at his mother's funeral when he had briefly doubled over in grief. Too many colleagues around. She had been so distressed by his pain. He had needed someone to hug him so badly that day. She had just shadowed him closely, hoping that someone would provide the comfort he deserved and needed.

Comfort that she would easily have offered any other friend under the same circumstances became so complicated when dealing with Bobby. If she had wrapped her arms around him, they could never have gone back. And yet she regretted not having done just that.

Thank god for Lewis. He had lightened the mood and provided a lot of comfort at the graveside. He hadn't even made a pass at her, but merely thanked her for being there for Bobby. Funny, she should have been thanking him. She was so out of her depth in this situation.

Other than a brief embrace on arrival, Declan Gage had moved away from Bobby. Alex guessed it was because she wasn't leaving Bobby's side and Declan was still struggling with the reality that his daughter had very nearly taken Alex's life. Neither of them knew how to react in the presence of the other. And besides, this wasn't about them. It was about remembering Frances Goren – and getting Bobby through that day…………….

_Beep, beep, beep_

With a sigh, Alex moved to the sink in Bobby's hospital room, thoroughly washed her hands and then squeezed some of the ointment onto her finger. She leaned over Bobby and touched the ointment to his lips, spreading it slowly and gently on his lower lip first, from center to edges so not to open the split skin. He didn't move at her touch. His poor beautiful lips.

Being so close she could smell the dried sweat on his face and hair. She knew he'd been badly stressed and didn't need to see the marks left by the restraints to know it. There was no trace of his everyday scent of soap, aftershave or freshly cleaned suit here. She could smell the stress on him the same way she had after he had been held hostage by Ray Wiznesky. Come to think of it, he smelled that way when he came to the hospital after Jo Gage had kidnapped her. Strange to have that memory, she couldn't remember being that close to him as she lay in the hospital bed and the sedatives overpowered her….. He hadn't come close to her, he hadn't touched her, he merely said "Sorry". It almost annoyed her – _what are you sorry for?_ His eyes were telling more, but she could not keep her eyes open to read them.

_Beep, beep, beep_

At the thought of that time, she brought her fingers up to rub the tiny cross around her neck. It had been her constant companion since the day it was left for her. The cross had been in a velvet box on her side table when she awoke one night in the hospital after her kidnapping. She assumed her family had left it, but no one had ever mentioned it. She wasn't surprised. Her family was not given to open displays of affection. It was comforting to wear it. The symbol made her feel quietly and unobtrusively cared for and protected from the evils she often faced in her work. She reached up behind her neck and undid the clasp, pulled the necklace off and refastened the clasp. She hesitated for a moment, then reached down and wound the chain around two fingers on Goren's left hand, nestling the cross in his palm and closing his long warm fingers around it. He needed it now. It was returning whence it came. It hadn't come from her family. It had come from him.

_Beep, beep, beep_

As she cleaned the ointment from her fingers on a tissue, she checked the clock and mentally recorded the time she'd applied it. She was shocked to see it had been eight hours since they had brought Bobby to the hospital. No wonder she was feeling tired. She hadn't slept well since Bobby concocted this scheme to get into Tates. She had carried his phone, which he'd left with her, wherever she went for days. She slept fitfully with one hand on it, so she wouldn't miss a call from him. Days of worrying about him, plus a full night of driving to get to upstate New York were taking their toll on her.

Never mind, she had a job to do.

More ointment in 45 minutes.


	5. Realization

Nope, they're not mine, just borrowing these wonderful characters!

Many, many thanks to my proof-reader. This chapter was a big job!

__________________________

5 Re-alization

As night time fell, the lights were lowered in the ICU. The nurses came and went checking Goren visually and insuring the oxygen was flowing and all the monitors, as well as the IV pump, were working. His temperature had dropped close to normal so the ice was removed, but the fan continued to blow across him. Alex had noticed the reduction in the heat radiating from him the last few times she'd applied the ointment. This had to be a good sign. He was always hot. She often could feel the heat radiating from him as she stood beside him when they were working. He was a magnificent wind break! She never needed the heat up on High when they were together in the car and it wasn't fair how he would heat up even more after a meal. If only she could burn calories that efficiently. In spite of herself, she began to smile. She'd make sure she told him how annoying it was when he woke up. Her smile crashed.

But he wasn't waking. More blood drawn. _What were they looking for? Why weren't they telling her anything? What happened inside Tates? Had the hospital contacted the Tates Infirmary? _So many questions and no answers. She knew she had to stay away from Tates, the situation was far too sensitive to barge in and start demanding answers. Any misstep could throw Donny into danger. And she couldn't leave here. She did not know of Donny's escape...

This afternoon they had applied antibiotic cream and light bandages to Goren's cuts and the raw skin on his wrists and ankles. His feet were no longer elevated, and they'd raised the head of his bed.

Alex pushed off her blanket and stood up. It was getting late. She should phone the Captain for an update or he'd be phoning her. She wanted to be prepared when she talked to him, not taken off guard. She'd keep it short. She wasn't ready to hear the fallout from Goren's unauthorized entry into Tates and her part in the plan. Surely he wouldn't get started on it with Bobby in this condition.

As Alex left the room to make her call, she paused to look over her shoulder at Bobby's still form. Her lips compressed and she turned and walked to the elevator hallway which was relatively private.

"Yes Eames. How is he?" Ross asked as soon as he answered the phone.

"There isn't much change. He's cooled down a lot, but he's still unconscious. It will be the morning before I know anything more. I'll phone when I can tell you something definite." Hopefully that would stop him from phoning her…

"That's fine. Do **you** need anything?

"No. Thank you, sir"

"I'll be expecting your call. Look after yourself."

And that was it. Conversation over. She didn't know what to think. No, she wasn't going to start fretting over the repercussions from this mess. If things didn't turn around soon, there might never be any repercussions… _She'd better get back._

When she returned to Bobby's room, she walked over to the side of his bed and looked down at him. He hadn't moved while she was away. She sighed her disappointment and reached out her hand to rub her pinky finger over his bottom lip. There was no need for another treatment just yet. She resumed her nightwatch from her chair.

_Beep… beep… beep…_

As they did their rounds, the nurses would gently smile their reassuring nurse-smiles at her blanket-wrapped figure and ask how she was doing. She repeated "Fine, thanks" each time. She watched their faces carefully for any sign that things were looking worse. But they merely jotted notes on Goren's chart and slipped quietly out of the room.

The ICU became even quieter as the night stretched on. Family members of other critically ill patients wandered down the hallways seeking relief from bedside vigils. At one point she heard a sharp cry of anguish from another room and she froze where she sat, icy fingers of fear creeping around her body. She felt her face go cold again and pulled the blanket more tightly around her.

_Beep… beep… beep…_

Bobby's chest gently rose and fell. The clock ticked and the monitors beeped their rhythm and minutes became hours and he did not stir.

"Mrs. Goren?" Alex jumped in her chair as the nurse touched her shoulder.

"No." replied Alex.

"It's all right, I'm sorry I startled you. He's fine. I'm Faith, your night nurse. Would you like me to bring in a cot for you?"

"No, no, I'm fine. I guess I nodded off. Please call me Alex."

Faith moved to the sink and began filling a basin with lukewarm water and a wash cloth. "I thought you'd like to clean him up bit. He's had a hard time and I know this will make him feel better. And you, too. Once you've done that we'll put a gown on him."

_Oh, boy._ _Well, that's what you get for being here under false pretenses…_

Faith placed the basin on the bedside cabinet along with a wash cloth saying "I'll be right back" and left the room. _Wait! Isn't this what they pay you the big bucks for? _

Alex raised her eyebrows and pushed back the blanket. She stood, and in one smooth motion dropped her shoulders back and slid off the jacket she'd been wearing since she and Ross had left Major Case yesterday. _Yesterday or the day before? __Yes, it was the day before_. The clock had shifted past midnight. Without her jacket on, her belt showed, complete with handcuffs and gun. _Oh, great, how many wives or domestic partners carried concealed weapons? _And she began to giggle. It ended as abruptly as it started. Alex Eames did not giggle. The giggle didn't last long, but it had her shaking with nervous exhaustion. She supposed she should find a locker where she could safely stow her gun. She would ask. She was developing a bruise where it hit her as she curled in the chair hour after hour.

Alex placed a hand on either side of the wash basin, leaned over it and dropped her head to her chest. She blew out a huge breath threaded with fatigue that seemed to come from her core. She straightened, tossed her hair back, submerged the wash cloth into the basin of warm water and added a bit of soap.

_Where to start?_ She began with his high forehead, so uncharacteristically motionless. She carefully wiped away the layers of sweat accumulated before the heat stroke had overtaken him. Rinsing and wringing, she methodically continued her job. She swept down his small nose and across his broad cheeks. She gently wiped each closed eye. _Those long eyelashes up close..._ _She bet they would give wonderful butterfly kisses as they fluttered across your skin…._

Alex ran the cloth over his ears and down around his neck, concentrating fiercely on the business at hand. He didn't move. She guided the cloth over his exposed shoulder and down his left arm to his fingertips, then washed his hand carefully, avoiding the bandages on his wrist. She wiped down each of his fingers and repositioned the cross in his palm. She held his large hand in both of hers, looking at it thoughtfully.

Normally, when his hands weren't in his pockets or buried in crossed arms, they were in constant motion, pointing, waving or writing in his binder. They were an extension of his mental thought processes and accented every significant point he would make, whether drilling a finger into someone's chest, distracting an interviewee by waving his hands, picking up prized possession in a home where they were conducting an interview, or helping an elderly lady down a flight of stairs.

But they were motionless now. And it was so wrong.

Alex moved the basin to the other side of the bed and repeated her duties. Lastly she ran the wash cloth across his chest just down to where the sheet covered him.

Faith returned with some shampoo and together they washed his hair and beard. His head was heavy. Faith handed her another towel and stood on the other side of the bed as she dried Bobby's head.

"Are you all right, dear?" she asked as she watched Alex. Alex just looked up at her and nodded briefly, wondering what had prompted her to ask. She wasn't going to embarrass herself by almost fainting again. She was afraid the astute nurse may have seen more in her expression than Alex had intended. "We'll finish this job in the morning", said Faith.

Alex had certainly had enough. She had nearly come undone while cradling Bobby's head against her shoulder with one hand, her cheek to his forehead as she washed the back of his head. She had always assumed his hair must feel wiry, but it was beautifully soft, as was his skin.

She and Bobby had been so close for so many years, yet had no physical contact. The emotional tumult she was feeling, coupled with the physical touch, had her on sensory overload. Although she had dreaded this intimacy when she first realized Faith's intentions, Alex had been soothed by the task. And her brain? Well, it had checked out sometime in the last half hour. Her sharp worry eased as she tried to ease his suffering. _Maybe she wasn't so useless._

The nurse had one last chore. She pulled a gown from the cart, checked the size, clucked a little negative sound at her first choice and rummaged around for another.  
"This should do".

In one motion she pulled the sheet off Goren and with another practiced move, covered him with the gown. Alex's eyes had been glued on Bobby's face and she'd turned off her peripheral vision as the sheet flew in the air. She wasn't ready for that much intimacy. _Chicken._ She snarked at herself.

As the nurse worked on his right side, Alex carefully manoeuvred the gown under Bobby's left arm and did up the snaps over his shoulder. Faith worked skilfully around all the wires and IV. They re-covered him with the sheet and Faith rechecked the instrument connections while Alex cleaned up the basin, cloths and towels.

_Beep… beep… beep…_

_And here we are_. _What now?_

The hospital staff were not telling her much. Just that they were reporting regularly to Goren's doctor. Finally Alex cornered Faith and peppered her with questions. What would happen if his kidneys didn't work? What were the possibilities of permanent damage? Why wasn't he waking up? How was his heart handling the stress? What had the blood work shown? What medication had they given him earlier? Did he need to be moved to a large hospital? She could make that happen….

Faith reassured her that it was a waiting game till morning and they were ready for any surprises that Mr. Goren's condition might present.

Frustrated with the lack of details, Alex returned to the ER where the security guard gave her access to their gun locker. She shoved her gun, holster and handcuffs into the locker and tucked the key away in her pocket. Her badge was in her jacket pocket. _There, that felt a bit better. _As she walked by the nursing station in the ICU they offered her the fruit bowl. She took an apple and felt even better as the food began to warm her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten.

Back in Bobby's room Alex repeated the ointment ritual yet again. She reached out and ran her fingers through his mostly dry hair, still bemused by its softness. _Whew, she better not get used to doing this. What if he woke up and caught her? _Hell, she'd live with it if he'd just wake up. But what she saw was frighteningly lifeless. She wished she hadn't eaten that apple….

_How could this have happened?_ she questioned for what seemed like the thousandth time. _What had taken place inside those prison walls? What had Goren done to warrant this?_ Anger began to swell in her as she thought of the warden at Tates. _That woman knew and she allowed it to happen. She may well have been the cause of it. Power corrupts._ And Alex knew all too well how women could become so twisted in their thinking that they were capable of actions as evil as any man. _What sort of woman would thrill to know an innocent man was being tortured?_ Alex needed to stop torturing **herself** over things she could not fathom.

_Beep… beep… beep…_

When she first arrived at the hospital, she would rather have been anywhere than attending this bedside vigil. Now she wondered how she could have felt that way. It had been a knee-jerk reaction to an experience she didn't need repeating. Ever. She was staying right where she was, for as long as necessary. She would have gone crazy if anyone had tried to keep her away. No, she couldn't leave. And not because there was no one else for Bobby. Duty and obligation were not why she stayed.

Over the last few years Robert Goren had lost touch with his friends as the demands of his mother had escalated.

He'd been a good son.

_Don't kid yourself_, _he'd been an amazing son._ She remembered overhearing many phone calls when Frances would go on and on about something and Bobby would listen patiently, usually with his full attention, but sometimes fluidly multitasking. He always seemed to be able to placate his mother - until near the end.

If it hadn't been for Frank, Alex would never have met Frances Goren. God knows what Frank had said to Frances, but she'd demanded to meet Alex. Frances knew Bobby had a woman partner. So what had Frank seen in her during their brief meeting that suddenly moved Frances to need a meeting? Bobby had been so un-Bobby-like in the SUV the day he revealed the bombshell that his mother wanted to meet her. He was embarrassed and awkward, being pressured by a mother to whom, at this point, he was unable to say "No". His awkwardness had transferred to Alex and she wasn't sure how to respond. This uncharacteristic behaviour towards Alex on a personal level, had her deeply worried about how he was handling the very sensitive case in which they were involved. Frances had only days to live and Bobby was trying to cope with a continuous barrage of unsettling revelations, each one rearing up into a choke-hold, entwining his personal and professional life in the most profound ways possible. It became the week from Hell. And there was precious little time to spare.

But Alex had made the time. She wore her hair up the day she'd slipped up to Frances' hospital room. She was sure that would tip him off, but if Bobby knew, he had never let on. She took advantage of the fact that he was near his saturation point and wasn't as tuned in to her comings and goings as he normally was. She hadn't wanted him to know she was seeing Frances in case it turned into an unmitigated disaster.

Alex hadn't known what to expect when she met Frances Goren. For a woman only days from death, the tiny frail Frances, had delighted her with her witty views and sharply incisive comments. So this was the woman who Robert Goren loved and was needed by. And it made every bit of sense. Alex's biggest regret with Frances Goren was never having seen the interaction between mother and son. When Frances was lucid, it must have been wonderful. Then again. Two Gorens performing mental gymnastics in the same room might be a bit much.

Alex was happy she'd made the effort to meet Frances. She smiled now as she thought back. Frances recognized a good snark and dished out a few impressive ones of her own while Alex visited.

Alex's sardonic snarks had been honed when she worked in Vice. They fit well in that culture. Later, the mocking comments became part of her coping mechanism to dispel the tension that sometimes accompanied a complicated case.

_Funny. Now she almost always snarked for him. _She would watch from the corner of her eye to see if she could get him to react. _It's so worth it when he turns away and tries to cover up that little smile, almost better than when he doesn't bother hiding the smile. _Although the possibility of a rare dimple sighting was well worth the full frontal snark.

Bobby missed Frances terribly; her loss had left a huge hole in his life. Alex knew this was a large part of why they were here right now. In trying to fill that void Bobby had used incredibly bad judgment helping Frank. But Frank had given Bobby a purpose - a family purpose. Even though he hadn't known the existence of his nephew Donny until a few days ago, he had jumped at the opportunity to help. Bobby was needed again and his emotions were so sweetly transparent that Alex had been happy - and relieved. It was impossible to resist supporting him.

It had occurred to Alex that she should let Frank know what was going on here in the hospital. Alex rubbed her forehead at the hopeless though of even trying to find him. _Oh, Bobby, how could you let Frank suck you into this so completely? _How could _she_ have let Frank suck _her_ in? If only she had used her common sense, she could have put an end to it before it started. But could she have stood up to Robert Goren? She didn't know if he would have listened; she didn't know if she had the power to stop him with pleas and reason. There was no question in her mind that she could have stopped it one way or another, but at what cost to their partnership? Instead she'd chosen to be a willing participant and accomplice.

Bobby loved Frank and lived in hope that his relationship with his brother would be salvaged. It was no wonder Bobby had avoided sharing the details of his brother's life with her. She knew next to nothing about Frank until that unexpected meeting on the street outside the church soup kitchen. Alex had been unable to stop her jaw from dropping when she realized the tall hunched-over homeless scruff who kept staring intently at her was Bobby's brother. She should have recognized the familial intensity…

Ever since Frank had reappeared in Bobby's life Alex had to be there to pick up the pieces. Frank kept Bobby on an emotional rollercoaster. One day he'd be visibly relieved to know Frank's whereabouts and the next he'd be white as a sheet thinking his brother was lying dead in the morgue. Hours of sitting with a disappointed mother when Frank failed to show up, were compounded with the frustration of Frank visiting merely to determine the state of Frances finances. And then he didn't even show up for Frances' funeral.

Alex had been boiling with anger at Frank the day of the funeral and knew exactly what was happening when Bobby's eyes scanned the crowd at the church and gravesite. Her heart bled when she saw that. Although her family was no where near perfection, they were there for each other. She saw the faraway look on Bobby's face when she'd talk about her family and knew he wished a normal life for his own family. But Frank repeatedly left Bobby twisting in the wind. And now Frank had manipulated them both into finding out the truth about the Tates Correctional Facility in the hope of saving Donny. She'd tried to stay out of the middle when Frank pushed her there, but knew she would regret keeping anything from Bobby. All she could do was try to buffer the pain that Frank so easily tossed at his little brother. She hoped that just her presence would spread the impact of those blows.

In her flare of annoyance over Frank, she dug into her pocket, found an elastic band and yanked her hair up into a ponytail. _One less thing to worry about._ Perhaps anger was going to get her through this.

_But when is he going to wake up?_ The flash of anger was gone as suddenly as it had come and was replaced by a deep gnawing fear and uncertainty.

_Oh, Bobby, for God's sake, wake up! I've had enough._

Alex had sat by Joe's bed for two days as he died. It was obvious early on they could not save him and kept him alive only to find recipients for his organ donations. Those hours had seemed never-ending. She discovered her mask the day Joe died and she'd been shaping and thickening it ever since. She had never really recovered.

And here she was, nine years later, at Bobby's bedside.

He was so still. His breathing was so shallow she could hardly see his chest move. His kidneys were still not working. _This can't be happening._ _Are they just leaving him here to die? Why can't they doing something? Anything._ Anger flared again. Her eyes were burning from exhaustion. No amount of analysis or hard work could fix this now. _Helpless_. _Useless_.

_Why had she allowed herself to become so caught up in the life of this man?_

She could answer that easily. _He wasn't just a man, he was an extraordinary man._

When they were first partnered, he drove her crazy for months, finally tipping her into submitting an official request for a new partner. She later thanked Jimmy Deakins for calming her and urging her to give it a bit longer. She had always wondered if Deakins suggested Goren ease up on his partner without divulging the reason for his request. Goren would have figured it out. He was always the smartest person in the room.

It had taken time, but Goren had slowly evolved from an aloof peacock who annoyed and frustrated her, to someone with whom she was pleased to work. She still couldn't believe she'd said he was an "acquired taste" on the damn witness stand for the whole world to hear.

Bit by bit over the years he had slowly revealed the true Robert Goren to her. He had his own mask. Unlike her rigid one, his was that of a chameleon. But there were some things he could not hide and she was lucky to be close enough to see those fundamental traits that left her in awe. When all was stripped away, Robert Goren had a huge capacity for empathy and compassion. She'd seen it most strongly in his dealings with children. No matter what their situation, children were drawn to him and he responded with warmth and kindness and affection. Those were traits someone just could not fake.

He had to have the truth at whatever cost to his personal psyche. Many times she'd seen a look in his eyes as they closed a case. It was the look of deep sadness when he broke someone to get to the truth and it was often coupled with a fleeting uncertainty that he'd done the right thing. You had to be right there to catch it, and as time went on, he stopped trying to hide it from her. He even deliberately sought her eye contact and her reassurance. She always gave it.

From him, Alex learned a greater understanding of human behaviour and not everything was as it seemed. And that included the sometimes bizarre techniques he employed to get information during an interview. She had come to delight in those unconventional methods. She could almost anticipate them.

He taught her fearlessness and that there was always a way to get what you needed. It was that philosophy that helped her remain calm as she continually improvised new escape plans during her abduction by Jo Gage.

Over time, he began to use her assistance more and more. His predatory dance was no longer his alone. They had become, in essence, dance partners in a game of hide and seek with the minds of society's most morally corrupt. Their dance required complete and absolute commitment and the intensity of their dance bonded them as nothing else could.

But her addiction to the dance was not what kept her coming back. It was more. He had given her so much in his subtle roundabout way. The single thing she treasured more than anything, that touched her so deeply, was that over time this amazing and unique individual had come to trust her enough to let her know what lay behind his mask. He told her with his eyes what his voice would or could not say. He struggled fiercely with how much to share, sometimes shutting her off completely. But he always came back.

He trusted her with his life and this is where it had led.

_I'm so, so sorry, Bobby._

She gently placed her hand over his collarbone, her fingers almost touching the pulse in his throat. She closed her eyes and felt his warmth radiate up through her cold hand. She felt the rise and fall of his breathing.

Standing there so close beside him in the darkness, it started to overtake her with an unexpected stab of loneliness. It kept her thoughts half formed as they began blurring and tumbling over one another. She could not stop this unwelcome and uncontrollable torrent of emotion. The mask she depended on so much could not hold it back and splintered into a thousand pieces, vanishing into the night. As the blast hit her, her body bent like a windblown willow and she bowed over him. She hoped she wasn't speaking aloud. It wasn't to be shared:

_We've been together so long and have gone through so much. We know each other so well. You complete my sentences and I yours. You complete my thoughts. You are my other half every day._

_You never stop amazing me and I get up each day wondering what new things you will bring to it. You have taught me to see and think things I never dreamed I could. I am so lucky and honored you've shared your life with me. _

_And if you're gone…_

_Don't leave. _

_Don't leave. Me_.

The haunting image of the sunken body of Jay Lowry pierced her. Would she be looking at Goren's body on M.E. Rodgers examining table in an autopsy room tomorrow morning? A huge single tear hit the gown covering Bobby's shoulder. And then another.

_Oh, God!_

And in the quiet of the darkened ICU, amongst the wires and tubes, Alex climbed into the bed beside her partner.


	6. Reassurance

I am heartbroken they are ending the "real" stories of Goren and Eames. I will miss them so much – more than any I have ever watched. From the bottom of my heart, I thank the amazing Vincent D'Onofrio and Kathryn Erbe for bringing life to these exquisite characters.

Thank goodness there is fan fiction. We will be able to keep them "alive" for as long as we are in need of them.

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6.

Re-assurance

With tears streaming down her face Alex nestled in as close to Bobby as she could get, trapping his left arm in place. Lying on her side, she carefully stretched her arm across his broad chest and placed her hand gently over his heart, spreading her fingers so she could feel the rise and fall rhythm of his breathing. She laid her head slowly and carefully on his shoulder, almost as though she was afraid she would wake him. _That's silly_, she thought, when that was the thing she wanted most. She became very still as her tears slid down and began soaking his hospital gown. Her irregular breathing was ragged as unstoppable tears of regret and fear welled up from….. she didn't know where. He was wonderfully warm. As comforting as it was to feel that, she was terrified that she was too late and it was only a matter of time before he would grow cold at her side. She forced herself to be calm, telling herself this was all due to exhaustion. But within seconds another wave swept her and she became rigid as she tried to stifle a silent sob. She finally gave in, turning her face straight into his shoulder and buried it as a spasm shook her. His hospital gown gathered and puckered over his chest as her fingers clutched the fabric.

_Beep… beep… beep…_

The monitor beeped its indifferent rhythm, but when she closed her eyes and forced herself to relax, its solid steadiness spoke to her almost as if he was speaking and it reassured her. Muscle by muscle she began to relax. _Let it go._ _What will be will be_, she thought numbly. It was a philosophy she always fought and worked against, except there was nothing she could do now to change what was happening. It was up to Bobby.

The nurse came quietly into the room and her face softened as she saw the unlikely couple pressed so tightly together. Faith hoped things improved for them over the next few hours. Nights like these could be hard for the staff, too. Alex was so small next to him. Mind you, he was rather a large patient… They must make quite the picture standing beside one another. Faith hoped she would be able to see that happen, but she would likely be off duty by then. She knew Alex was exhausted and strained far beyond capacity, just like many of the family members she saw in Intensive Care. The reactions of loved ones could range from wailing concern to the exact opposite and Alex was certainly at the reserved end of the deep caring scale. These two must be a very interesting couple. They were both partners and police. And then Faith realized that the cover-up of feelings she had witnessed as Alex bathed her partner was not to hide emotion from Faith, it was a practiced response to feelings. These two were not lovers or domestic partners, she smiled to herself. But they should be. Now she really did hope she'd be back on duty when he regained consciousness – it would be very interesting. She picked up the blanket from the chair and covered Alex without covering Bobby. With a compassionate rub on her shoulder, Faith tucked the tube of ointment in Alex's hand and left the room.

Alex was unable to thank her as she continued to struggle with silent sobs. Faith's touch had set her off again.

As more moments passed Alex relaxed once again and it occurred to her she may be unintentionally overheating Bobby. She took her head off his shoulder and laid it next to him on the bed in an attempt to leave a bit of air space between them. That was as far away as she was going, for purely selfish reasons. With her hand, she meticulously smoothed his hospital gown where she'd gathered it.

_This was her fault._ And another silent sob wracked her.

She'd been Robert Goren's partner for over 8 years, longer than she'd been with Joe. It just couldn't end in this stupid, stupid way. More tears slid across the bridge of her nose, down into her other eye and joined the rivulet running down her cheek onto the bed. She couldn't remembered the last time she'd cried this much. She scrunched her eyes closed trying to squeeze all the tears out at once and be done with it.

Alex opened her eyes and looked at Bobby's profile. She was never this close to his face and if she was, it was purely by accident. Sometimes when she'd be leaning over his shoulder at his desk, he would suddenly whip his head around to say something to her, not realizing she was so close. She had backed quickly away from that numerous times. But sometimes she could predict when it was coming and she stood her ground. It was he who "retreated", but not always…. _How can you smile and cry at the same time?_

The novelty of their closeness distracted her from anxiety. Lying beside him reinforced the huge discrepancy in their respective statures. Her toes barely touched his knees and if she completely extended her arm, she could just cup his far shoulder across his full broad width. His hands, with those exquisitely long fingers dwarfed hers. Bobby's right hand lay over his abdomen and she reached down to run her fingers from the base of his thumb across his anatomical snuff box and up to his bandaged wrist. She remembered rolling her eyes the day he'd told her there was a name for that part of the body between the two tendons which were so pronounced on his hand. As irrelevant as it seemed to anything in her world, she'd never forgotten it, along with so many other trivialities he'd shared with her. _I only look like I'm not paying attention to you._

It annoyed her that she was so small and she worked hard to stay in shape should she need to keep up with the boys. Still it was handy to have a partner whose sheer size discouraged a lot of crap when they were on the job. They very rarely needed to "get physical" in their jobs. Perhaps it worked to their advantage that she was so small, Alex mused. She helped him look even bigger and less inviting a figure to tangle with. She sometimes worried that it also made him an easy target.

He never made reference to her height, or lack thereof; never made a big deal if she wasn't tall enough, he just reached up and grabbed the coffee cup. He often stooped or sat on the edge of a desk so they could converse eye to eye. He would catch himself from automatically holding a door open above her head to allow her to go under his arm. He seemed to have an instinct for downplaying their comparative sizes. She briefly rubbed her hand on his chest with sad affection.

Alex's level of fitness had served her well when she had been kidnapped. Except she still felt stupid at being overpowered by the similarly sized Jo Gage. She had been fooled by the unexpected and that would never happen again….

Too bad her shoulders had not fully recovered from being hung by her wrists for so many hours. Bobby would still notice her frowns of discomfort when she did something that strained a shoulder. At least she no longer winced. He would say nothing, just look elsewhere and retreat into quiet thought.

She knew how hard he'd tried to find her those awful days. She'd seen the tapes. She'd watched them one day while he was following up some paperwork – she was determined to know the details of her kidnapping on her own terms and she had felt strong enough to watch. She had been shocked to see what Bobby had gone through. She was puzzled as she viewed the footage taken by the camera in the patrol car. As they'd arrested Declan Gage in the street Bobby had looked bewildered, had tried to stay calm and then exploded and physically shaken Gage. Bobby had been soaked in sweat – soaked right though his suit jacket. In other tapes she watched him struggle between rationality and torment as he interviewed Gage in the interrogation room. Alex was dumbfounded. She had never seen him in that state, holding his head in his hands, being consoled by Gage. He'd been so calm and in control when he'd arrived at her bedside in the hospital. He had given no sign of the torture he'd endured other than looking like he'd slept in his clothes for three days. _You look like hell_, she'd told him. _What a stupid thing to say._ He'd obviously been working with no sleep, no shower, no shave or change of clothes. In some ways she felt the whole ordeal had been easier for her than him. Watching him had disturbed her more than knowing many of the events surrounding her kidnapping. She had left work early the day she viewed the tapes, avoiding Bobby while she digested these revelations - revelations which began to weave their way into her nightmares.

When she returned to work after her kidnapping, she and Bobby had mostly fallen back into their usual patterns, except almost right away she had learned of Frances Goren's cancer. And Bobby had started his slow unravelling.

_Beep… Beep… Beep _

She closed her eyes, but heard the nurses quietly coming and going, continuing their night time duties. They didn't ask her to leave his side and did not show any concern over his condition, so she guessed she was doing him no harm. She sighed. Lying so close to him she would immediately know if he was in distress and she didn't need to keep her eyes open.

The steady rhythm of the heart monitor beeping continued to soothe her. It was much slower than it had been when he was brought in. But not too slow…. He was so much cooler. But not cold…. His breathing was deeper and more regular. These had to be good signs. Every once in a while she would open her eyes and reach up to gently feel if his lips needed more ointment. The steady flow of oxygen couldn't be helping re-hydrate him. After a while, she could reach up to touch his lips without even opening her eyes. And yes, just once, she placed the full palm of her hand on the side of his face and swallowed the lump in her throat. _You're safe here_. She was there to keep him safe from the outside world – she would be more assertive making sure she did the right thing from now on. But she couldn't keep him safe from himself.

With a spark of hope, she decided she would make sure he had a full sponge bath. Not that she had any plans of doing it herself….

Perhaps a shave…..

_Beep… Beep… Beep _

And now it's time to waken the sleeping giant…


	7. Reawaken

7. Re-awaken

He was struggling to no avail. As much as he tried, he could not loosen the restraints around his ankles and wrists. He was so hot, his face was burning and he was soaked in sweat. He was literally dying for water. The guards were laughing. Their laughter boasted off walls of peeling paint and ricocheted off cracked floors soaked in the stench of urine, sweat and disinfectant. Their voices knifed through the heat. He yelled once again that he was going to arrest them. They faded away, but the heat and the light continued to blaze.

Then he heard Eames' voice. He struggled again, fighting the futility that seemed to immobilize him, trying to get to her. But he could not move. He needed to warn her – he must warn her. She couldn't come here. She had to show them her badge or they would take her, too. He started to recite her badge number praying that she would chime in, as he could only say the first two numbers. Three seven… three seven…. three seven… nine?….. _Why? Why can't I get this out?_ It's was **so** important. _Eames!_ He couldn't live through her being taken again. If he could get to her, he promised he would never leave her side again. He would be there to keep her safe. He turned his face towards her voice and yelled her name, but her voice faded away. _Where is she?_ He screamed till it hurt and he could cry out no more. His heart was pounding in his ears and he fought the restraints anew.

Now it was darker and cooler and he had stopped fighting. The coolness felt good. The guards must have returned him to his cell, but he couldn't remember. There was pain radiating up his arms and through is lower legs, even as he lay still. He knew his left arm remained restrained. His cell was no longer damp and mold-scented; the scratch of the blanket no longer irritated his bare arms. _This is better._ He couldn't hear her, but he could smell Eames' perfume and it helped calm him. She was here. _He would keep her from harm_. He made that vow and he was determined to keep it. It was Spring on the streets of New York City. He could feel the light breeze and it felt good. He would keep his eyes closed and remain in this soothing twilight where Eames was part of that Spring breeze and they were safe.

He was convinced she must be one of those women who spritzed her perfume into the air and stepped forward into the mist leaving just enough scent clinging to her skin** -** just enough to make a guy want to get closer…. Yes, she was close. Then why didn't she take off his restraints? Was she trapped in Tates as well? Or was she part of some new torture devised by the guards?

Rising fear ended his gentle lull. He opened his burning eyes, but didn't move. It had been a touch on his lips that had finally forced him fully awake. It was mostly dark, but the cell door was open and there was a lighted counter just across the hall. His feet and legs were covered in white. He frowned. Realization slowly condensed his blurred thoughts. He was in a hospital, a real hospital not a prison infirmary. These were not rough concrete walls, not prison antiseptic or buzzing fluorescent lighting. _Is this real?_

His brain was sluggish and he felt every muscle in his body ache. He tried to organize the many possible chains of events explaining his presence here, but he could not engage his mind in its usual multiple trains of thought. And that scared him. The last thing he recalled was repeatedly fighting nauseating waves of welling fear. He had lain restrained, surrounded in stifling heat cast off by the boiler in the basement of Tates Correctional Facility. His repeated requests for water had been ignored and he'd lost track of time. Eventually he'd lost consciousness as well. For the first time in his life, he knew what it was to be alone and helpless, with no control over the situation and no escape. It was numbing.

His left arm was still restrained, so he lifted his right hand. He noted there was an oximeter on his index finger. Only then did the steady rhythmic beeps of the monitor come sharply into auditory focus. He touched the oximeter to his nose knocking the oxygen cannula askew. In surprise he squinted and winced, causing his lips to spread and crack painfully. It felt like there was a gravel pit behind his eyelids. Oh boy, this seemed to be an uncomfortable reality.

_Beep… beep…. beep…._

He caught sight of a hand laying high on his chest and his eyes followed the length of the arm to its source. There was his partner, squeezed tightly against him. He wasn't so sure this _was_ reality. This was not part of any scenario he could have predicted.

_Alexandra Eames, what are you doing?_

Her eyes were closed and her hair was pulled away from her face. Her head was thrown back slightly as it lay on the bed beside him. Her lips touched the skin of his arm just under the cap sleeve of the hospital gown. Loose tendrils of her fine hair moved gently as a fan blew across their closely pressed bodies. Her hand lay relaxed in the middle of his chest and her regular breathing matched his. A single light over the head of the bed illuminated her face like a Rembrandt portrait, accentuating that spectacular bone structure across her cheek. It threw deeply fringed shadows from her eyelashes. She had a wonderful over-pout, like that of a newborn, which gave her face such a vulnerable look when she was lost in thought.

_Thank God, she's safe._ She was not trapped at Tates.

_This is amazing. _Still in a fog, he stole the opportunity to study her as she slept. In spite of the lighting, he could see the darkness under her eyes and wondered why it was there. It took a lot to get her looking that tired.

Just watching her calmed him. If she was this relaxed, then everything was all right and he could relax. Why she was here beside him was a much more immediate and fascinating puzzle than replaying and reassessing the events at Tates and speculating how he had come to be here. It occurred to him that the injections he'd been given at Tates' infirmary must be causing this drug-induced fantasy. And they must be damn good drugs to conjure up this… this whopper. He better enjoy it, because he couldn't see this particular fantasy ever happening again.

Over the years while on stakeouts, much to his annoyance, he'd been caught by other cops as he watched her sleeping. He thought he'd been subtle, but the look on those cops' faces told him otherwise. The last thing he needed was the rumour mill to take off and buzz that he was lusting after his partner while she slept. He had already earned himself the coveted prize of departmental Whack Job, he didn't need Whack Off Job to be added to that. Just as well there had been no reason for overnighters on the job recently…… Too bad - except he was more than likely going to be caught doing it again. Watching her, that is.

He could count on one hand the number of times she'd touched him over the years and yet, here she was. Puzzling. Not touching was a pattern she had set up right away in their partnership. He had sensed it almost immediately. What was with that? She hadn't liked him much at first. She'd been an ice queen, in fact. He had known she was recently widowed and had tried to get a sense of where she was in her grieving process. But she wore a virtually impenetrable mask, one he had unexpected difficulty seeing behind. At that time he really hadn't been interested in seeing what was behind it - she wouldn't last long as a partner anyway. The work was much more interesting than trying to analyse this woman who clearly wanted to share nothing of herself.

He became obsessed with each case. Obsessed to the point of exclusion of his partner. Deakins had given him a good wake up call during that first year and from then on he worked harder to include her in his process. It really wasn't much work. He had been secretly surprised and pleased to discover how often she "got it" when he let her play. And he was even more delighted when she could add a fresh angle that had not occurred to him. Their working relationship had become better and better. But his ability to read her had not improved much.

He could however, after years of practice, almost predict an oncoming snark. He waited for them. Anticipated them. Was disappointed if they weren't delivered. Very occasionally he had to deliver them himself if she neglected to do so. Delivering a snark in her own style, then watching the expression of recognition cross her face followed by a smile, was very, very satisfying.

He lay beside her, increasingly fascinated at her closeness. Their self-imposed lack of physical contact was a way of life - yet here she lay with the whole length of her compact body warming his side. She had a sixth sense for detecting his presence and predicting his next movements even before he himself knew where he was going. On a rare occasion, her radar would malfunction and he would bump her accidentally. He never had time to apologize before she was gone and the chance was lost. She had perfected the technique of being very close to him without ever touching him. And he suspected she sometimes used him as a windbreak when icy breezes swept them during frigid city winter storms. One day he would challenge her on that theory. He wondered what she'd say. His mouth began to curve at the thought, until the splitting skin of his lips cut his smile short.

When her face was relaxed she exposed her true self. The one so few knew. Early in their working relationship he had recognized that behind her mask and brusque daily demeanour, hid a very sensitive and bruised soul. That sensitivity inadvertently revealed itself in her ability to draw astute case-related observations and conclusions, traits which he had come to value and rely on. But to most observers, Eames was an amazingly independent person; totally self-contained, intelligent, composed, seeming to need nothing from anyone – that's what the other guys in the squad thought.

As the years went by, he considered himself privileged to have seen more, as she allowed. But all too often she was an enigma to him and he would curse that mask she wore out of habit. It protected her well as she moved and worked in the "boy's club". But when it slipped, he was both intrigued and frightened. At those rare times he felt completely inadequate, dealing with a stranger who he knew so well and yet – didn't. At the same time he felt privileged to be allowed his glimpse of the inner Eames. _There was no question – his feelings for her were complicated._

He had been completely taken off guard when they were investigating the murder of Kevin Quinn, Joe Dutton's partner. Eames had grasped his arm when she recognized the latest victim as Alfred Manaya, the drug dealer involved in her husband's murder. Her touch had made him jump and all his alarm bells rang. It was a testament to her level of stress that she'd reached out to him. She had not been the only one tied up in knots over that case. He was caught between the job and personal concern for her well-being. No matter where that case led, it travelled an inevitable collision course into Eames' well-guarded tragedy. She became a tightly coiled spring, fighting him every step and he had worried, albeit unnecessarily, that she would explode. Or implode. He wasn't sure which way her mask was going to slide, but he was pretty sure it was inevitable.

When he had unintentionally let her first name slip out, he was trying to soften the blow, to ease the shattering of the beliefs she'd been carrying for so many years. She had stood reading the report Rodgers had prepared on the DNA results then looked directly at him, taking a series of deep breaths to steady herself. As their eyes locked, her pain combined with confusion and disbelief was naked for him to see. He had to lower his gaze. Not only was it difficult to watch her in that moment, he wanted to give her the option of suffering in private.

This was the first time he'd ever cursed the job. He wished he'd ignored his intuition and suspicions and left well enough alone, but he had followed the breadcrumbs where they led him. He hated that this had come between them and caused her pain. The only good thing about it was that he had found the truth for her, and he was selfishly pleased that he had been the one to do it. Not quite the picture one might expect of a knight in shining armour saving a damsel in distress, he thought ruefully. This truth he had uncovered had not been a happy truth and it was he, himself who had created the distress. Just before she arrested Beltran, she had asked her husband's murderer, "Did you think it wouldn't catch up to you?" It had caught up to both of them. That tiny gold cross around her neck was not doing a good job that week. To his relief, but not to his surprise, she maintained her professional façade through to the end of the case. He wished he was brave enough to tell her how proud he was of her.

When it was all over, he was left with his Eames looking hurt and bewildered. He had tentatively taken the lead and suggested they walk. So they had walked for miles, till his feet and knees hurt. It seemed like she could go on forever, until he broke her mind-numbing march and suggested they go for soup at a favourite deli near her home. Once again she'd silently handed him the keys, as she had after Quinn's funeral. That simple gesture told him volumes about her state of mind. They talked very little but she seemed comfortable and grateful for the quiet companionship. When he took her home, he hadn't asked to come in, he had just followed her through the doorway and taken his jacket off and then his tie, expecting to be told anytime that he could leave. When she made coffee and suggested they watch a movie, he knew he'd made the right decision. Just as she had stuck to him at his mother's funeral, he was sticking to her. Over the next hours he watched her resignation settle into a type of sad serenity. Acceptance. As she came to terms with the new reality, the occasional tear rolled untended down her cheek. If she didn't wipe them away he might not notice them. But he did. He doubted either of them really watched that movie. She had not called her family, so he stayed. Her couch became his bed that night and the next.

He would never forget those two days. They created a quiet cocoon, a shelter to insulate her. She just needed a bit of time to recover her equilibrium. As her initial melancholy wore off, he set her to helping him with everyday things. After checking her fridge, he dragged her to the grocery store where they picked up steak and salad and a great bottle of wine. He'd resisted buying a second bottle. Alcoholic stupor for her was probably not the best thing right now, although it was the only thing he'd ever found to turn his own brain off. She didn't resist, just followed where he led. They worked side by side in the kitchen. She was an easy hip check when she moved into his workspace on the counter, being even shorter than normal without her shoes on. She had smiled in genuine amusement at finding him wearing the frilly apron her sister had given her. Liz had even called while he was wearing it, but Alex had given her no indication of the vision putting the smile in her voice, nor told her of the recent days' events. After eating, they relaxed cradling their glasses of wine. Her head lay on the back of the couch and she stared into space. The alcohol flushed her cheeks and she began to talk. And talk. He listened, without even an uh-huh, watching her, touched that she revealed so much to someone she'd been so angry with the day before.

Her words had slowed and she'd drifted off into an exhausted sleep. He had quietly pulled out the case paperwork and completed most of it, stopping occasionally to look at her and mull over what she'd said. He covered her with a blanket. It was his turn. She had stayed with him after his Mom had died, so it was easy to do the same for her. And she accepted it.

It wasn't like he had anything else to do or anywhere to be. With his mother gone, he had too much spare time. This was a welcome replacement. It seemed he was needed here. Maybe even wanted here.

Their days together were, regretfully for him at least, broken by ringing cell phones; first hers, then his. They just looked at each other and then he began collecting his things. It was over. She held the door as he went out.

"See you shortly" she said.

He had just nodded at her without words and turned to leave, then suddenly swung around. He looked at her and she must have seen the concern in his eyes. She just smiled gently in return. Back at the squad room, they were immediately swept up in the next case and it was almost as if those two days had never happened. She had re-adjusted her mask and life went on.

But he had seen almost everything behind that mask in those few days. And it was knowledge worth protecting.

_Did you lie and watch her sleeping, Joe Dutton?_ He hoped Eames' grieving for Joe was done. She had carried his torch far too long and it was time for Joe's memory to be quieted, not a thin-skinned wound waiting to be scratched. She was completely satisfied that the truth had been revealed. Her head understood that, but her heart? Had she really accepted his death as something that she could look back on without anguish? Her loyalty to Joe after so many years stirred mixed feelings in him. It stunned him and disturbed him and touched deep into his heart all at the same time. That part of her life was no longer an unshared well-guarded secret. Joe's death and her emotions were part of his life now, too.

From what he'd heard, Dutton had been an upstanding guy and a good cop. A big joker - the opposite of himself. But a taser gun for her anniversary? He figured he'd done better than that with the cross. She wore it every day. Mind you, she probably wouldn't if she realized it had come from him. Ah, further indication he was experiencing a hallucination – there was no chain with its tiny gold cross encircling her neck…

He lay very still and studied her sleeping face. Having been allowed to see her well-disguised sensitivity, he didn't know why she stayed in the job, except she was so damn good at it. She put on her mask every day before she pulled into the 1PP garage and kept it there till she left. It continued to be shaped and thickened by years of working with society's aberrant. He now counted himself blessed to be one of those privileged few who were permitted a glimpse of what lay behind.

It was one of life's mysteries how he'd ended up partnered with her. And another mystery why she continued to stay. He just knew that every day she stayed was a lucky day for him.

She was so close and completely relaxed. There was no sign of the wariness present when she was awake. No frown, no snark, no annoyance setting her features. Smooth and vulnerable. She had exquisitely perfect skin which was the softest thing he'd ever felt. She didn't know he knew that though. Thank God. He would go to his grave coveting that secret.

He sighed as weariness and pain washed over him. Well, perhaps he no longer needed to keep that secret….if the way he felt was any indication, that grave might be closer than he wanted. He wished the fog would lift from his head so he could solve this puzzle. He seemed to have gone from the "Heaven" of Tates to Heaven on Earth. Well, if he didn't feel like crap, it might be Heaven. He must be dying or dead. Even then, he found it hard to believe she would care enough to crawl into bed with him.

Wake her? No. Why spoil it? This needed to last as long as possible.

He was never able to leave anything alone for long and decided it was time for a reality check. He placed his hand over Eames' and curled his fingers, including the finger bearing the oximeter, under hers. If these weren't real fingers, they were certainly warm and comforting.

He closed his burning eyes for just a moment….

_Beep… beep… beep…_

Alex's eyes flew open. She hadn't moved, but Bobby had. His eyes were still closed, but now his face was turned towards her and she could feel his breath on her forehead. She listened to the steady rhythm of the monitors and felt the rise and fall of his chest. But there was something else, too. His warm hand engulfed hers.

_Oh, God! _

The sudden sharp burning behind her eyes preceded the tears. She didn't move. Once again her tears rolled over the bridge of her nose, soaking into the sheets. She heard a nurse come in behind her and do her rounds, then leave on softly padded feet. There was nothing to be alarmed about. Alex closed her eyes.


	8. Rehydrate

_There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.  
~_Washington Irving

**8. Re-hydrate**

The sound of chattering women rouse him. Well, one was chattering, the other voice was calmer more measured. Their voices came to him muffled, as though their mouths were full of cotton batting. His eyes opened. It hurt. He blinked rapidly, fighting the pain that encased his whole head. It was brighter now. The room, the smells, the sounds all began to focus. The voices belonged to two nurses working in his room. Confirmation he was in a hospital.

"Well, Mr. Goren, how are you this morning? Feeling better?" The chatty younger voice chirped at him. He blinked several more times clearing his eyes and frowned. He began to open his mouth to speak and stopped immediately. The pain that tore through his lips wasn't worth the answer to the question he was about to ask. It appeared she really didn't expect an answer anyway, as she went right on chattering.

His eyes followed the nurse's motions as she moved from one side of his bed to the other. She continued her cheery patter of one-sided conversation as she raised the head of his bed higher so he was almost sitting up.

"Mrs. Goren stepped out to the powder room for a few minutes. She'll be right back. She'll be relieved to know you're awake. She doesn't say much, does she? But we know you gave her quite a scare. I'll bring you some water and ice chips and we'll get you started with those."

And she was gone.

He normally had no difficulty processing simple conversation, but he found it necessary to mentally rerun everything the nurse had said. The only part he was clear about was the water and ice chips.

The other nurse was not the chattering type. She moved quietly, checking his monitors. As he became more aware of his surroundings, the pieces began falling into place. He was sure Eames had been here. Hadn't she? Tates. Yes, he'd been in Tates and now he was out. But about this hospital? What had happened? How did he get out of Tates? He carefully opened his mouth and tried to speak to the nurse, but only a croak came out.

"Just stay quiet, Mr. Goren. I'm Faith, I've been with you and your partner all night. I'm just finishing up and then I'll be leaving you with Jane. You're looking much better today."

In spite of his rough shape, Faith noted what gentle brown eyes he had. It was hard to believe this man was a police officer. But then she usually saw people at their most vulnerable. She was looking forward to Alex's return to see the interaction between these two. She was sure that those eyes must be one of the things that attracted his partner. And Alex surely was attracted.

Faith picked up his left hand and felt for his pulse. Goren looked down at her hand on his wrist and he saw the gold chain wrapped around his fingers. Faith removed her hand and watched him. Robert Goren rolled his wrist and opened his hand to reveal the tiny gold cross nestled in his palm. As his teeth clenched, Faith watched his eyebrows come together in a worried frown and the muscles in his jaw flex. She heard his sudden shocked exhale and his breathing accelerate. Faith had not needed to check his pulse, he had a heart monitor on, but she wanted to draw his attention to Alex's cross to see his reaction. This was by far a much stronger reaction than she had expected.

Goren swallowed hard as he stared at Eames' cross wound so carefully around his fingers, feeling pain radiate up through his neck and ears, but hardly noticing. _Oh, God, Eames, where are you? Have you finally realized I gave this to you and you're giving it back? Have you finally had enough and left?_

His eyes flicked upward scanning the room. The frown was gone and replaced by a look that was close to fear. Faith realized that she'd made a terrible mistake. The patient's heart rate was rising quickly and the air was filling with urgent beeps. What was the significance of this cross?

Goren began to sit up, and Faith reached out to hold his shoulders in an attempt to stop him. He was well on his way to pushing through her when he caught sight of Eames coming through the doorway. Faith was relieved, as she knew she would be unable to stop his forward momentum. Goren relaxed against her hands, leaning back just as he was close to tearing off his monitor leads and ripping out the IV.

Alex quietly rounded the corner into the room with both arms raised and head lowered as she re-gathered her pony tail. She was shuffling along in stocking feet, wearing a white tank top and her low rise jeans topped by her thick leather belt. She moved like a teenager and looked like one, too, except she had curves that would distract a saint. She was beautifully proportioned, and he enjoyed watching her move when he was sure she wasn't paying attention. He regularly practiced his peripheral vision skills on her and especially like the jeans with the little pocket flaps which drew his eyes down when she walked away. _Nice._ Right now, her face was shiny from a fresh scrubbing and he could see small rolled flecks of paper towel stuck to the skin of her arm. She'd had a bird bath.

_Eames!_ Relief flooded through him and the icy feeling he'd felt as the blood drained from his face was replaced by a heat raging swiftly up through his torso leaving him feeling weak and ill. What the hell was the matter with him? He felt like crap. He fell back on the bed.

So this must be the inscrutable Mrs. Goren he'd heard some mention of. He began to speak and then croaked his discomfort as his lips cracked and began to bleed. He reached up to cover his lips and hit his face with the oximeter, still clamped to his index finger.

Suddenly she was standing beside him, smiling one of her breathtaking smiles. She didn't take those out of her arsenal very often. It was one of those smiles that lit up her eyes, crinkling them at the corners, turning them into happy crescents over fresh apple-scrubbed cheeks. Simple joy pulled her mouth open flashing bright even teeth bracketed by seldom seen and perfectly placed laugh lines. This smile was a perfect 10 and even in his condition he could appreciate it. _Wow. For me?_ Just as panic at her absence had him needing to be in motion, now her presence – and that smile – stopped him dead.

_She hadn't given up on him. _

Wearily, he rolled his head on the pillow towards her. Alex stood close with her arms folded on the guard rail of his bed. She smelled mostly of hospital soap and industrial paper towel. He looked up at her. Usually the only time she was above him was when she leaned on his desk to see his computer monitor.

As she shuffled into the hospital room, she had noticed the heart monitor's rapid cries and had looked up just in time to see him hit himself with the oximeter. There was no possibility of stifling the excited smile that instantly tugged up the corners of her lips when she saw he was awake and moving.

"You look like you've been on the binge to end all binges." she quipped, taking note of his badly bloodshot eyes. "You're going to bleed to death through those eyeballs."

Alex could not stop smiling her happiness until the urgency and distress in his face locked their eyes. What was the matter? This was more than a reaction to his physical condition. What had happened in Tates? Whatever it was, it had a profound effect on him and was showing already. The heart monitor which had been beeping so frantically when she came in was now slowing down. He's just now realizing he's no longer in Tates, she thought.

Goren knew as soon as she spoke that this was no dream. This was Eames. He began to reach out to touch her and then stopped. When their eyes met, her spectacular smile wavered and fell away. _Awww_, he thought, _did I ruin that?_ His panic was over knowing she was here and his mind was not playing tricks on him. Now the shot of adrenalin he'd just experienced was ebbing and he felt exhaustion hammering at him. He needed to hang on for a few minutes….

Alex, taken off guard, didn't know what to say, so she instinctively soothed. "Hey. Take it easy. How do you feel?" Instinctive actions she had towards Goren were usually kept tightly wrapped.

He just looked at her dully. She was instantly reminded of the look he had given her when they left Ray Wiznesky's place. It was exhaustion and despair. That day at the coast, Goren had been amazing as he performed his psychological dance around the unstable Wiznesky, managing to save her and reason himself out of a possibly lethal situation. He had prevented a suicide, as well. Except all the skilfully improvised steps Goren had taken were smashed in the blink of an eye, by the actions of Wiznesky's own uniformed colleagues. Both she and Bobby suffered a similar horror as they saw the faces of the daughter and terminally ill wife as they witnessed the aftermath of the suicide. Although he could not have anticipated the outcome, Goren would still beat himself up over it; _he should have seen it coming._ He always felt responsible.

Alex had stopped the SUV a few miles away from Wiznesky's, near a seawall. They walked silently until his step took on more purpose and his shoulders straightened as he regained emotional equilibrium. She had offered a short detour to see his Mom at Carmel Ridge, but he merely shook his head. _Not today_. This was a side of Robert Goren she knew was there, but had never been permitted to see so openly.

It was that same look she saw now on Goren's haggard face. His expression that day reflected his overwhelming feeling of despair at his failure. Alex swallowed hard. Not only was he showing his feelings, he was sharing them with her. They lay undisguised on his face.

"Bobby, do you know where you are?" Alex asked. Faith stepped in at that point, feeling guilty that she had set up something that had caused her patient anxiety. She had no idea of the complexity of their relationship and the symbolism behind that minute gold icon. "I think it will be a few hours before he's able to talk Alex", she said reassuringly. Alex nodded, then looked back to Goren.

"You're in the Truby hospital, Bobby. The captain and I came up when you didn't check in. The warden at Tates released you and you were brought by ambulance to the hospital." Alex paused, trying to give him a minute to digest the information. "Don't over-think this right now Bobby. We'll talk about it when you can. Don't worry about Donny - I'll call the Captain in a little while to see what I can find out. They're probably in damage control at Tates over you. You just need to concentrate on getting better. And you need to stop worrying, we'll figure this out."

It was a huge amount of information to give to him so soon after regaining consciousness, but Alex knew all too quickly he would start putting things together and she wanted to circumvent any sudden action he might feel the need to take.

Goren watched her intently as she spoke, his focus shifting back and forth from her left eye to her right as he tried to take in everything she said. His expression had changed from that of despair to an expression Alex couldn't read.

She wanted to lighten the mood and distract him. _This ought to do it_. She adopted the stern version of her Aunty Alex voice. "Look at me" she commanded, "And don't move". She frowned as she saw the fresh blood seeping from the cracks in his lips.

"What have you done to your lips? You're wrecking my hard work!" she tried to tease. The ointment she had been applying was the only thing that kept large pieces of skin in place. With any luck, she could keep this next application of ointment matter-of-fact and take him off-guard. She was worried. Even on relaxed days when he sat very quietly, she knew his mind was working. Not much could turn it off and until he could talk, he would be keeping his thoughts bottled up. She was going to do her best to keep him communicating this time. Nag him, if she must. Nothing annoyed her more than when he shut her out. And she had never figured out what triggered that disconnection. As long as he would look her in the eye, they were usually okay.

He watched her open the tube of ointment and squeeze the contents onto her finger, dully wondering what she was going to do with it. He was fading fast. But as she reached out to touch him, he pulled his head back in surprise. Her eyebrows knit together more tightly and her lips pursed as she attempted to complete the task at hand.

"I said don't move Detective!" She gripped his jaw from underneath his chin, holding him still as she gently applied the ointment. She refused to meet his look with their faces so close. Eyebrows knit, she concentrated completely on his lips and the job to be done. The nerves of steel that allowed her to do her job so well were not standing up to the intimacy of this contact or his fiercely intense stare as he challenged her to look at him. _You bastard, Bobby!_ Better get this over with fast. As she carefully smoothed the ointment over his bottom lip, it twitched. Then his right eyebrow slowly raised. He was trying not to smile.

"Shut up Goren!" she whispered at him without wavering her focus. Shifting her approach and surprising even herself, she half closed her eyes and slowed her finger movements down to a slow sensual rub. Bottom lip, middle to corner, back to the middle, out to the other corner. Her lips parted. Two could play at this game…. The second eyebrow raised to match the elevation of the first. Obviously her plan of distracting him was working. His eyes continued to bore into her, but he hadn't reached out to stop her.

"Finished!" she said with mock satisfaction mixed with disguised relief. She hoped he couldn't hear that relief in her voice. She turned quickly away from him to replace the lid on the ointment, a huge smile spreading across her face. Although she was un-nerved by the closeness, she was pleased that he was reacting as he might under normal circumstances and at the same time fearful that he would know how rattled she was. Without even thinking, Alex was rebuilding her mask. Goren didn't need to know what she was thinking or feeling. He wouldn't care anyway.

Faith had been closely watching the interaction between the partners and she was awestruck by the communication they shared with not a single word uttered. Alex verbally teased and cajoled, but at the same time she watched Mr. Goren with sharp eyes. Alex's composure had changed completely from the frightened woman Faith had witnessed only a few hours before. Alex was now under control and Faith was amazed how completely Alex hid her true feelings in front of him. She'd obviously been practicing and perfecting her technique for a long time. Faith had watched a distraught Alex wind the chain of her necklace around his fingers, a simple gesture filled with such deep caring. _Why would you ever want to hide that kind of caring?_ Faith smiled to herself and would have liked have pointed out: _But Alex, if you are hiding your feelings from him, isn't this cross, now in his hand, going to give you away?_ Faith was dying to see what transpired between them over that tiny cross….

Her patient had panicked when he saw Alex's gold cross in his hand, but had calmed immediately upon seeing his partner enter the room. Faith watched those eyes of his speak volumes. She had no idea what they were saying. But Alex knew and seemed to be tuned into his every expression. What a pity her shift was over and couldn't stay to watch. Oh, to be a fly on the wall!

With regret, Faith said "I'm leaving you now. I'll see you this evening, if you are still here. I hope you're feeling much better Mr. Goren."

Turning to Alex, she said, "It's been a pleasure, Alex." Faith answered Alex's wary gaze with an expression which was both knowing and reassuring. The shattering of Alex's mask was safe with her. "Thank you", Alex murmured as Faith passed her to leave.

The young nurse, Jane, who was so accomplished at one-sided conversation, swished into the room carrying a tray laden with a pitcher of water coated in condensation, a cup of ice chips, a bent straw and an empty cup.

"Here you go! Let's get as much into you as you can take."

Turning to Alex, she chirped "Have you noticed how well he's doing this morning?" and she proudly and enthusiastically held up a very full bag of urine from the side of the bed. Alex raised her eyebrows, giving a plastic smile of approval followed by an exaggerated lifting of her chin in acknowledgement. _Oh, please!_

"Dr. Knowland should be in soon, Mr. Goren. He'll be happy to see you doing so much better. We should be able to remove your catheter soon. I'm sure you'll be glad about that."

Goren, alternately shocked by the closeness of Eames's ministrations and then assaulted by the verbal barrage of the young nurse, was wishing the ground would open up and swallow him. Instead he silently winced and began to turn red… As he watched Eames' reaction from the corner of his eye, her expression brought back a strong memory of the time he'd held the astronaut diapers up in front of her. He had swung them a bit closer to her face than he intended. _Sorry Eames._

Jane continued. "Mrs. Goren, the ice machine is the other side of the nurse's station if you need more. We're all ready for the doctor's visit. Just call if you need me." And she was gone leaving both of them staring after her. The "Mrs. Goren" comment in front of a fully conscious Goren had _her_ wincing. As Alex turned to look at him, she was sure she was going to see his eyes bulging, at the very least a mocking expression, but instead his eyes were closing. _Oh good, no need to explain the Mrs. Goren thing. _

"Oh no, not yet, you don't!" and Alex grabbed an ice chip and pushed it between Goren's lips. His eyes flew open as the frozen chip clicked against his tooth.

"Open." she ordered as he looked at her with dimming eyes. He did as he was told, then sucked in several more ice chips. Her elation at seeing him awake was being replaced by more worry. He was frighteningly weak, a very sobering reality.

The next few hours were spent waking Bobby every half hour or so and forcing ice chips or a straw between his lips. Alex thought the doctor would never arrive. She really needed to know how Bobby was doing. He still had not spoken.

Each time Goren awoke he remembered a bit more. Knowledge of where he was came instantly upon waking, but he felt so exhausted he couldn't seem to stay awake or attempt to sort out what had happened to him. Each time he opened his eyes, he would see Eames. She was curled up on a chair beside the bed facing him, nestled under a hospital blanket tattooed with Truby Memorial across one side. Sometimes she would be watching him and he would relax, reassured and comforted by the sight of a quiet smile spreading across her face.

Sometimes her head would be rolled to her shoulder and she would be asleep. If he had a cup of coffee, he would wave it under her nose, just to watch the show. The pungent aroma of the coffee always generated an instant response when they were on a stake out. She would awaken, shaking the hair back from her face as she sat up. Inhaling a deep breath, she would reach out to him for the cup with both eyes still closed. It was the same every time. Goren suppressed a smile at the memory. It was these tiny little things that often gave him great pleasure when they worked together. He never told her that he'd been drinking out of the same thermos cup for hours. Oh, well. He never backwashed. And besides, she had a much better immune system than he did. The only time she'd ever been really sick was when she was pregnant – and that was nothing she got from him…. But there was no smell of coffee in this room, only the distinctive smells of the hospital. He couldn't even catch a whiff of the delicate perfume she always wore. Maybe if she was closer…

And that's when he remembered.

She had been laying asleep, right here, pressed firmly against him in the night. The memory returned a flood of sensual impressions; of her touch, her warmth, her breath, her scent, the darkness of the room, the peace on her partially shaded features, the quiet, broken only by the beeps of the monitor. Her hand resting on his chest.

_Alex!_

He would have spoken aloud if he could. A sharp pain behind his eye had his vision blurring. He was overwhelmed with the poignancy of her actions. He was grateful. And he was confused. He stopped breathing. The heart monitor began to pick up rhythm. What would have pushed her do that? It was so un-Eames-like. Why would she go from never touching him to lying in bed beside him? This just didn't make sense. Was this his latent repressed wish? A wish to be comforted and cared for by this woman he shared almost every day with?

Did it really happen? He was still unconvinced that it wasn't all part of a hallucination, He needed to be sure. He didn't want to make a colossal blunder with her. But there was no way to be sure, no telltale evidence. All he knew was that he had her cross wrapped around his fingers. He closed his eyes and tears squeezed out of their corners. He took a ragged breath. He had to be so careful how he handled this. He needed to preserve their relationship at all cost. She was like his left arm and the only one in the world he could trust. And she was here when no one else was.

Because there was no one else. A pang of loneliness struck him. Eames was only here because it was her job. Sadness joined the loneliness.

And then…….

If he could have smiled, he would have. The woman beside him last night had not worn her cross. _Because it was wrapped around his fingers._ To borrow her phrasing: _Alex Eames, you are so busted._

But he was still unsure why she'd lain with him. Not his usual type of puzzle-solving. He was such a complete failure at deciphering his partner - so much for his "deep understanding of human behaviour", to quote her. He was excellent at combining observation, analyses and possible outcomes in the blink of an eye. But this was Eames.

Muscle by muscle his body was giving in again to exhaustion. He started to fight it, then wondered why. This was not a bad place to be for a little while longer. So he surrendered to the serenity of the warm secret memories where he and Eames lay insulated in the safe darkness of night; where they were forever suspended in time and place and circumstance.

_Thank you Alex. Thank you for staying._

Alex heard Bobby's ragged breath and opened her eyes in time to watch the tears roll down the side of his cheeks. _Oh, Bobby. _His tears tore at her heart. She had seen his eyes tear up before, but never roll down his cheeks. She watched him, worry in every shadow of her face, waiting to see if the tears stopped. She could have run to his side, dried his tears and told him everything would be all right. She experienced a mental tug of war whether to move or wait.

What could have happened in Tates which left him so clearly traumatized? He was experiencing mental trauma as well as physical. And that worried her immensely. His delicate thought processes and emotions needed to be protected just as much, if not more, than his body. He had managed for years to hide that sensitive soul. She had kept a careful eye on him over the last gruelling year as his mother's suffering had drained him emotionally and financially. At the same time he had been hit with the revelation of his mother's relationship with a serial killer. Gone was the cavalier Robert Goren who played as if he had nothing to lose. In his place rose a more subdued man with many of the sharp edges rounded, a man bearing some inner personal burden. She had worried excessively about him. She hoped that some day he might realize she was there for him for anything. Not just work. He was not to that point yet, he still kept her at arm's length. And she was not ready to lay it out in plain words. But she just might if pushed.

The physiological significance of his tears was not lost on her, either. He was re-hydrating well or else there would be no tears. Three days without water could be fatal. The memory of last night's fear stabbed her again as she wondered how close he'd come to that point. She watched as the tear tracks dried on his face. His breathing evened, the heart monitor calmed and he was asleep again. She relaxed in her chair. There would be a lot to discuss when he was able.

Alex wondered if he'd noticed her cross was wound around his fingers. She considered removing it while he slept, but wasn't sure what to say if he awoke as she was taking it. She had mixed feelings about having given it to him. Not that she regretted giving it to him under the circumstances, just that she wasn't sure she wanted to reveal to him how distressed she'd been for him. He really didn't need to know how deep her fears had been. She wasn't sure how he'd feel about that or what he'd say. She had let her mask slip way too far last night. Alex wanted to preserve what she had with Robert Goren. Under no circumstances was she willing to upset the incredibly vibrant and challenging life she experienced working with him. In the light of day, with his hourly improvements, she felt like she'd over-reacted. Did he know she'd lain beside him in bed for hours? Her discomfort increased just as Goren's strength increased. Why was she so embarrassed about showing her feelings? It seemed the more she cared for him, the more repressed she became.

Her introspection and the growing discomfort at having exposed her feelings was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor. _At last_.


	9. Relief

"No soul is desolate as long as there is a human being for whom it can feel trust and reverence."  
~ George Eliot

**9. Re-lief**

"Good morning, Mr. Goren, I'm Dr. Knowland". This doctor was brusque and to the point. Goren's eyes flew open at the sound of his voice. Alex rose from her chair and moved to stand beside Goren's hospital bed, resting her hands on the guardrail. Jane trailed behind the doctor with a food tray in her hands which she brought to Alex's side of the bed. She placed the tray on the over-bed table, then backed away and stationed herself behind the doctor, curiously subdued for a change. Alex's stomach grumbled.

"You're much better this morning", observed Dr. Knowland. "I'm delighted to see the excellent progress you've made." The Doctor hesitated.

"May we speak?", and he raised his eyebrows and tilted his head at Alex. _Shoot, this doctor had done his homework_, she thought. Alex dipped her head acknowledging that she was not a relative and turned to move away. Goren's left hand shot out and clamped her hand to the top of the bedrail just before she lifted it. Alex jumped in surprise and looked at Goren, but his eyes were on the doctor.

Dr. Knowland nodded his own acknowledgment that Alex should remain and he continued.

"Well, Mr. Goren, everything looks very good considering the poor condition in which you arrived here yesterday. Your kidneys are doing well. Your heart and lungs are fine and electrolytes are all within normal parameters. Your cuts and bruises are not serious, but will be uncomfortable for a while. You'll just need an over-the-counter pain medication for that. How are you feeling?"

Robert Goren responded by raising one eyebrow and tilting his head at the doctor with an expression that plainly asked how the doctor thought he felt.

"I see", Dr. Knowland responded with the beginnings of a smile. His expression returned to serious immediately. "The staff told me you were having trouble with your voice. I expect you'll be fine in a few hours. Most of your discomfort will be from the extremely serious case of heat stroke you experienced and will slowly dissipate over the next few days."

"We're hoping you will be able to leave here later this afternoon or evening, under the supervision of a helper." At which point he turned to look at Alex. "He should have someone with him for 48 hours."

Goren's gaze dropped from the doctor's face. Alex quietly added "I'll make sure that happens." She managed a coherent reply to the doctor, even as she remained stunned by Goren's sudden clasp. Clearly visible on the warm hand covering hers were the multiple gold strands of the necklace she'd wound around his fingers. It seemed it would soon be time for a showdown on that topic... Although Alex wasn't sure if he would deal with it head on, or try to minimize it. That was the thing about Robert Goren. You could never be sure. He was never boring.

The doctor's full attention was back on Goren. "There are a few things we need to clear up. I realize you may be not able to answer them now. I understand that you are an undercover detective with the NYPD. I don't need to know why you were at Tates Corrections, but I would like to know how you got into this condition. We were told by Tates that you had been on a hunger strike and refused water, then had to be restrained. Is that true?"

Goren's eyes met Alex's. _You know that's not true.._. Goren was unsure how to respond. Alex held her tongue, not willing to impart any information of their suspicions which she was unsure Goren wanted public yet. Goren frowned and gave a noncommittal shrug. The doctor took in Goren's reaction.

"You had the residues of a nice cocktail of drugs in your system, as well, Mr. Goren. They really gave you the full meal deal. The Sodium Amytol will continue to keep you pretty drowsy and confused for a while longer, possibly as long as another day, but it had some side effects which complicated the heat stroke." Dr. Knowland's voice hardened as he continued. "To put it bluntly, you were a mess when you arrived here and I want to know why you were allowed become so critically ill. I've been unable to contact the doctor at Tates."

Goren looked up at Alex. Her jaw was set and her chin lifted as she listened to the doctor, but there was a slackness around her eyes betraying her distress at the doctor's words. She swallowed hard, uncharacteristically refusing to meet Goren's eyes when there was relevant information given to them. _Come on, Eames, look at me._

Of course he now had the answer to the question he'd been repeating over and over to himself.

No wonder he felt like crap. No wonder Alex's cross was wrapped around his fingers. No wonder she'd lain beside him.

She had thought he was going to die.

Unexpectedly, even to himself, he lifted her hand off the metal bedrail and wrapped it completely in both of his. But she refused to look at him. He would have to stutter out his awkward apologies and thanks later.

The doctor looked at Alex. "Do you know anything about any of this?" Alex was trying to maintain her most enigmatic expression. She was shocked by the details she was hearing. She had known Goren was very ill, but hearing it put into words caused her insides to churn again and it had nothing to do with hunger. Too much had happened in the short space of time Goren had been in Tates and she was starting to need answers as well.

Bobby had given her no indication that things were so bad when they had talked on the phone. He just sounded tired. She should have listened more carefully, but she was the squad room and there were ears everywhere.... In retrospect she should have realized things were going wrong even at that early stage.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea what happened", Alex replied, disguising her knowledge of similar incidents taking place at Tates.

The doctor's tone was grim as he spoke to Goren. "We'd like you to make a statement to local police when you're able. Something is going on that needs to be addressed. The sooner, the better". It seemed the doctor had serious suspicions about what was taking place inside the mute walls of Tates Correctional Facility.

Goren managed to catch Alex's eye sending her an unnecessary warning look, and then stared straight forward. He needed to compose his thoughts before he spoke to the local police. He nodded his head at the doctor and his eyes began to dull. The realities of the last week began cascading together too quickly for him to analyse in his current condition; Frank, Donny, his forced leave, coercing Eames' help, unauthorized entry into Tates, faking schizophrenia, the drugs, the restraints, Isolation, Heaven, heat. Messing up Alex. He was overwhelmed.

His eyes closed and he floated back to those quiet hours shared with his partner. There was an unexpected magic in those dark warm hours. A magic he'd never before experienced. Safe and secure and warm. He had felt cared for. Deeply cared for by someone he trusted implicitly. And _**there**_ was the magic. _I don't want to deal with the reality_. If he could have suspended himself back in time; back to those hours with Alex which were slipping away with each waking moment, he would have done it without a moment's hesitation. She had given him a gift he could never repay.

Goren held Alex's hand as if trying to preserve the tranquillity they'd shared. He rubbed the back of her hand gently and pensively, warming its coolness.

Dr. Knowland's voice roused him. "We'll have Jane unhook you from everything and see how you do over the next few hours. If you have any questions, we can deal with them later. Have me paged if you need me, otherwise I'll see you later." The doctor nodded to them both and turned to leave.

Goren's right hand left Alex's and reached out to the bed rail nearest the doctor. Two sharp raps of his oximeter had Dr. Knowland turning back and raising his eyebrows expectantly. Using only his right hand, Robert Goren began to speak in American Sign Language. Alex was surprised that the doctor could understand him as the oximeter was still on Goren's index finger and he spoke only with one hand. Alex understood very little, but she did catch him spelling out "Tates".

"I'll do what I can" was the doctor's reply as he left with Jane scurrying close on his heels.

Goren turned his eyes to Alex, but Alex was watching the doctor's departure. She gave his hand a squeeze and slid from his grasp. "I'll be right back". Then she was out the door behind the doctor, leaving Goren alone and confused with the beginnings of frustration because he could not follow.

Alex quickly caught up to Dr. Knowland.

"Excuse me, Dr. Knowland. What did Bobby ask you? I caught the Tates part, but not the rest".

"He just asked me to let him know what I discovered. That it was important", replied the doctor. "But you need to tell me if you know what happened to him".

"I'm sorry, I just don't know." Alex shook her head as she frowned. "But I do need to know…. Is he going to be okay when he's released from the hospital? Is he ready to go alone with me? Should he be transferred into a city hospital? "

She wanted to know exactly what to expect should Goren collapse after they left the hospital. Long ago she had discussed with her firefighter brother how she would be able to help Goren if he was hurt or unconscious. Due to the huge discrepancy in their sizes, she would probably be unable to carry him in a classic fireman's lift. She had smiled along with her brother at the mental vision of Goren's feet still being on the ground, even if she could hoist him up on her back and shoulders. But she persisted in doing her diligence in the weight room and used Goren's estimated dead weight as a target reference. She had never had to use her brother's rescue suggestions and hoped she never would. She wondered what Goren would think if he knew her weight room targets and her reason for them.

"We won't release him if he's not well enough," the doctor reassured her.

Alex nodded she understood. "Thank you."

Still shoeless, Alex shuffled silently back into Goren's hospital room, where she caught her partner sitting forlornly in his bed looking like a tired bereft little boy. He was fiddling with the oximeter which was still clamped on his right index finger. His bloodshot eyes brightened expectantly as she came through the door.

There was no point in trying to discuss recent events with him till he could speak, so she opted for changing the subject and lightening the mood. Furthermore, she didn't want any awkwardness over this unheard-of hand-holding thing. She didn't know what had moved him to cradle her hand, but she was pretty sure he'd regret having done it and she wanted give him a graceful "out".

"Hmmmmm, coffee!" Alex exclaimed as the scent of the coffee filled her nostrils and she walked straight over to examine Goren's food tray. "Oh, lucky you! Green Jello."

Alex swung the over-bed table in front of him, so he could see what Jane had brought him. Continuing the little boy demeanour, Goren picked up the coffee and handed it to Alex handle first, as if innocently gifting his prized possession to his favourite teacher and hoping for a pleased response. He got his response and sat watching one of his favourite shows.

"Thanks." Alex murmured as she cupped the mug in both hands and closed her eyes, first breathing in the aroma, then placing the rim against her lips to take a small sip. Alex caught his intense gaze as her eyes flew open.

"Oh, Bobby!" she said in a shocked voice. "All your clothes went back to the city in the SUV with Ross!" A good snark eluded her, but a slow cheeky smile started to spread on her face. Knowing he would not answer made it easier for her. "Now, I wonder what you're going to wear home?" she asked in her own pseudo innocence, eyes wide. The thought of Goren standing outside in a gaping hospital gown was too amusing to resist. So much for his dignity…

She slowly shook her head as she enjoyed watching his confusion melt into a worried expression. "I have to rent a car, so I'll go pick up some clothes for you. I could use a change myself," she added with an expression of distaste as she plucked daintily at the shoulders of the white sweater she wore over her tank top. "I hope Walmart fashion will suit you."

Jane swept back into the room, talking before she even passed the doorway. Both Goren and Eames' heads swivelled in unison towards the jarring interruption and just as quickly as she came in, Alex swept her out again, asking for a few moments alone. Alex had the feeling Jane was going to start removing Goren from his tethers and was not planning to be there for the catheter removal. She needed to lay out her plan to her partner.

"Bobby, I'm going to go rent a car, pick up some clothes and phone the Captain. And with any luck I'll find a place to have a shower. I'll leave my cell number with Jane." Alex rolled her eyes at the mention of Jane, took a reluctant last sip of coffee and put it down. "We'll discuss things when we get out of here."

Goren had been watching her intently. As she started to turn away, he grasped her elbow to stop her. He reached out and tapped her belt where she usually wore her badge. "I have it", she answered, "it's in my jacket pocket. My gun is in the locker downstairs. I don't plan on using either here, Bobby" she said warning him that they were not going to get involved in anything local on an official basis. He lowered his eyes, nodding.

The next thing she knew she heard the rapping of a spoon on his table top and he was offering her his green Jello and the spoon.

"That's for you!" she said puzzled. Then in her best doctor voice: "The idea is that you eat it and get your strength back. I'll grab something while I'm out."

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked. He shook his head _no_ as the innocent look returned to his face. Then he held out the tube of lip ointment to her.

Alex's mouth opened in surprise and a confusion of emotions swept over her face. Jane had done the last few applications while Alex slept in the chair. _You devil, Goren, what's gotten into you?_

Admonishing him with a gesture, Alex lifted her index finger in the air and then pointed it directly at her partner. "I'll have Jane bring you a mirror."

Alex relented with a sigh, "Okay, I get it! But I have to go do these things." It had finally dawned on her he didn't want to be left alone. It was a realization that was confirmed as he looked directly into her eyes; a look that evolved from teasing to uncertainty to guarded. Then he dropped his gaze to his hands. The conversation with the doctor must have shaken him. She guessed he hadn't realized till now how sick he'd been when he left Tates and the condition they'd allowed him to spiral down to. Now she felt the sting of guilt because she was deserting him. It must have shown. When he looked up at her, his expression gave no reassurance that he was comfortable being left alone without her. _Damn! She had to get these things done._ A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face. This was not the Goren she was used to, but the circumstances were not even close to anything they'd experienced.

Alex suddenly abandoned her inhibition, forgetting this was Robert Goren, her larger-than-life, untouchable and reserved partner. She reached out her hand to his shoulder and smiled her most gentle smile. His eyes remained lowered. Her fingertips touched the warm skin of his back where the hospital gown had pulled apart. Touching him unexpectedly softened her even more. "I won't be gone long" she said almost whispering. "Have them call if you need me." She rubbed her thumb up and down over his collarbone to reassure him and then bent over seeking eye contact.

"Okay?" His reply was a long blink followed by a slow nod of acceptance. He was not happy.

Goren watched Alex shove her feet in her boots, instantly becoming three inches taller and donning her invisible cloak of authority at the same time. She pulled on her jacket. Her hair was still gathered up, so she didn't need to perform her usual flip, but she did pat her pockets checking for her standard cargo. She flashed him a somewhat distracted 8 out of 10 smile, wiggled her fingers at him in a small wave and was gone. She was already focussed on what had to be done and he was jealous that he couldn't go with her. And frustrated that he had no energy. Listlessly he pulled the cover off a warming bowl filled with oatmeal. He sighed. This was going to hurt.

_Beep… beep… beep…_

Out at the nurse's station, Alex spoke to Jane.

"Jane, here is my cell phone number. Please don't let anyone in to speak to Mr. Goren. Not even the police. Call me if they show up or if he needs me."

"We'll take excellent care of him while you're away, Mrs. Goren", Jane replied. _Hasn't she figured this out yet?_

"I'm sure you will." _Oh, Bobby was going to love this._

"What's the local at this nursing station? I'll call in a while and see how he is. Do you have the Yellow Pages? I need to rent a car."

And the last thing before she headed out: "Jane, could you please take Mr. Goren a mirror?"


	10. Redress

_The soul would have no rainbow,  
__Had the eyes no tears.  
_~John Vance Cheney

**10. Re-Dress**

As soon as Eames left, it seemed as if the room cooled. Just like his porridge. He hated that he couldn't go with her. He hated feeling helpless. But he was cognisant enough to know that gaining his strength back would get him out of this hospital faster. He began to spoon his food delicately past the wickedly chapped lips and raw throat. After the first few swallows, it got easier.

He could hear Eames talking at the nursing station and then after a few minutes it was quiet. He sighed. And the room cooled some more. It was always like that when she left. He usually watched her leave and then immediately became busy with something else so he wouldn't notice or care so much. Since the kidnapping, he had tinges of anxiety when she left as well. He would probably never get over that. Nothing had ever blindsided him like her kidnapping. He'd been blindsided on so many levels that week, with consequences that pounded on and on throughout different parts of his life.

Going home had gotten harder and harder for him. He had been so busy during his mother's final months that once she was gone he was left with what seemed like vast amounts of unclaimed time to fill. The work load hadn't changed, but he found himself lingering in the squad room long after he should have been home, just to avoid the emptiness of being alone. That's when he had really begun to notice the coolness when Eames left. Too long ago, it seemed, his nights at home had been his haven of solitary relaxation, a place to read novels and spend time in the kitchen experimenting with seasoning combinations, but as his mother declined, there was seldom time for anything but work and her. Besides, it was hard to get enthusiastic about cooking for one. The last good cook up had been at Eames' right after the Kevin Quinn case, which had unpleasantly morphed into the Joe Dutton case. They'd had a good time together in the kitchen that night despite what she'd just been through. As they busied over counter and stove, she seemed to have a weight lifted from her. He kept the conversation lively, about great meals they'd had together in restaurants and future ones that were worth trying. That night after their meal, the wine had started her talking and he eventually just sat quietly and listened. He had no wisdom to impart. It had been amazing to hear her talk so openly about her life before he came into it. He hoped she hadn't regretted sharing it with him. She had to know that he would never use anything she said against her. He hoped she trusted him at least that much. But after those few days together, she again folded in on herself and returned to being his enigmatic Eames.

Now that he had the time, he had considered inviting Eames over for another evening in the kitchen, but she always seemed busy with her family. He had no right to take her away from them, especially since he was sure they blamed him for her kidnapping. He didn't have any expectation that she'd want to spend more time with him anyway. He sighed again. He was becoming pathetic.

He put down his spoon and rolled his hand to examine the cross still lying in his palm. Why had he given it to her? It had been a reaction to a panic he had never felt before. That panic was still part of a nightmare he regularly continued to endure. He had never felt so helpless as when she was taken. When it was all over and Eames was safe, he had been completely drained, feeling not unlike what he was experiencing now. On that beautiful sunny day when Alex had been found and he was still so traumatized, he had left 1PP to walk and think. He had ended up in a small jewelry store for some unknown reason and bought the tiny gold cross and chain for her. Why? Eames was not a particularly religious person. But _he_ had prayed. He prayed for her safe return, even against all odds. He had prayed for himself, asking for the intelligence and insight to find her; and if that failed, he prayed for the strength to live on without her. If she ever wore it, he prayed that tiny cross would protect her from all evil no matter where she was, even if she never worked with him again. And he wouldn't have blamed her if she didn't.....

He had returned to her hospital room while she was still asleep and her family had yet to arrive. He placed the small velvet box on her bedside table and left, hoping for anonymity. The first time he had seen her wear it, he had turned away, breathless. She had thought he was being cold and had no idea why.

Now this same cross she had been wearing for a year and a half was back in his hand. It seemed this time, the situation was reversed. She was the one suffering the feelings of helplessness and once again he was breathless. And for the second time today he felt his eyes burn and blur. He recalled the power of his own emotions when he'd given the cross and was now warmed and comforted beyond belief that it had been returned to him in a way that seemed similarly motivated by strong feelings. _She cares._ Once again he floated back to those hours with Alex pressed tightly against him. He replayed her spectacular morning smile when she saw he was awake and he resisted chuckling as he thought back to her recent mirror comment. He didn't deserve her. Association with him seemed to drag her down. If he was more of a man, he would have set her free, insisting she find a new partner.

But he couldn't. He could not give her up.

Any day she stayed was a lucky day. This was becoming a mantra for him. He laid his hand over his chest and leaned back wearily against his pillow. He would close his eyes for just a few seconds...

Beep… beep… beep…

******

Alex rested the back of her head against the rough brick wall of the Truby hospital and tilted her face to the weak November sunshine as the cold breeze fingered her stray hairs. With each passing moment she felt some of the worry and cobwebs of her exhaustion lifting. She closed her eyes and filled her lungs with a deep breath of cool air. There were a few short minutes to enjoy the outdoor freshness before the car rental agency picked her up.

Alex Eames was used to fatigue. She and Goren often worked insane hours. But she couldn't hold a candle to the endurance of Robert Goren. Once Bobby started, he was like a dog with a bone. He worried that bone until there was nothing left. The gratification of the chase and capture fuelled them both, no matter where it took them or for however long, but he always had endurance that she lacked. The last few days had been nothing she wasn't used to in terms of hours of sleep, but it was the emotional trauma that was taking its toll, leaving her worn and unable to focus.

She never invested as much emotionally in a case as Goren. Someone had to keep their feet on the ground. Allowing herself to be sucked into this emotional distress was almost as annoying to her as it was perplexing. But then, this was not a case, this was her partner's life. Like so many cases over the last year and a half, this one joined a chorus of cases which had become more and more personal, forcing revelations between them far past their usual comfort zones. The line between their professional and personal lives, which they'd kept mostly intact, was becoming completely blurred. And it was confusing the heck out of her.

Alex was almost as good at compartmentalizing her life as he was. It allowed them to temporarily shut out one part of their life in order to permit total concentration on another. Perhaps it was part of being a cop. Except over the last year, the walls dividing the parts of his life had begun to deteriorate and it showed in his face. It revealed itself to her as visible fatigue and what appeared as distraction. However he always rallied in time to deliver the insight he was famous for, even when seconds before he seemed off in an entirely different world, his face shadowed by invisible burdens that even his broad shoulders had difficulty bearing. With all the walls within his life dissolving, it was no wonder that the walls between the two of them were dissolving as well.

Lately he had begun to bounce back to her Goren of old. Until Frank showed up with his plea for help. They had begun their investigation like any other, except Goren was even more engaged, now with a family purpose. She had responded happily to his lightness, keeping her eyes and ears open for any pitfalls that might occur. It was a curse that she hadn't found Bobby in time to stop his disastrous blow up at Ross in the squad room. That had truly begun the clatter of the domino cascade.

"Are you crazy?" Goren had bellowed at Ross.

It had taken a scant few sentences between the men for Alex to recognized that Goren was winding up to a crescendo. She futilely tried to intervene, all three with raised voices, then she hung her head waiting for it to be over. They'd all endured the abrupt shocked silence surrounding them as the rest of the squad room turned to stare and await the Captain's response. It had all happened so fast, but it was hard not to blame herself. She felt her job had been to avoid something just like that and she'd failed. Goren knew right away he had screwed himself and hung is own head as he looked at her. The look she'd returned wasn't accusatory; it was regret combined with a warning for him to brace himself. Through the glass walls of Ross' office, it had been easy to interpret the exchange as she watched Goren's back and shoulders and the tilt of his head, as well as Ross's grim expressions. Bobby's shrugging shoulders and upturned palms told her everything. She'd stood in his path as he'd headed for the gun locker, so he couldn't avoid her. She was completely distressed and at a loss for words. She must have looked like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck. There was no way Goren was going to go home and sit for a week. This had been a disaster in the making from the moment Frank had stopped her in the plaza. She was positive Goren was already planning a scheme even as he placed his cell phone on his desk with a short tap.

The last domino to fall in this whole mess had been almost fatal. The silence at the end of the cascade ripped away what was left of her precious mask and blew away the walls of her carefully compartmentalized life. If she was looking for an analogy, Alex felt like an onion with a large outer layer peeled away. She was sure Goren would have a more cerebral, probably literary, analogy but she was stuck with the everyday onion. Just like an onion, even if she wanted, she could never replace or repair her shell. What had been hiding inside that outer shell had spilled out in the form of tears. Tears of fear. Fear of losing him. Fear of losing the life she'd come to love. _Don't go there, Eames. This is way too dangerous. _

Right now, she would focus only on the things that needed to be taken care of immediately. If there was an opportunity later, she might try to analyze her own feelings. In the light of day, with Goren rapidly recovering, fatigue conveniently allowed Alex to refrain from any additional introspection. Introspection was not her strong suit, and neither was it Goren's. But there was no denying she was stuck with the inevitability that her feelings for her partner exceeded the level she was comfortable with and she was going to have to live with that.... Even as she was berating herself for having allowed those feelings, another voice in her was saying, tempting; "_and is this so bad?_" Her lips tightened and she shook her head, glad that she was alone with her thoughts, knowing that a soap opera of expressions had crossed her face in the past few minutes.

Alex had briefly worried that Goren might try to make an escape from the hospital to do something only Goren would think of - but really, what could he do? He had no badge, no authority, no voice. And no clothes. He was, however, extremely resourceful. She knew by the time she got back he would be itching for immediate answers to questions he'd formulated in her absence and needing action. She hoped he'd be released in a few hours. They really needed to talk. There was no doubt; all hell was going to break loose for both of them. Now that his life was no longer in danger, the fallout from his unauthorized action was the primary concern in their lives. Alex sighed. An additional fear was setting in. Yet another factor was threatening to destroy her life as she knew it. Bobby could lose his job over this. Maybe that last domino had yet to topple.

Never one to procrastinate, Alex took action and phoned Ross. She braced herself.

"How is he, Eames?"

_Well, hello to you, too, Captain.... She should be used to his stern and abrupt manner by now._

"Much better, sir. They may release him this afternoon."

"Good. I want the two of you in here as soon as possible. The ripple effect is moving upward and the Chief of D's is after blood." _Well, it hadn't taken him long to spill his guts to his bosses. _It looked like she was too late to weave her magic and win over Ross this time. It was her ongoing mission to buffer Goren and the Captain, but this had already gone too far. _Damn._ Was there no way they could have kept this within the Department?

"Captain, Goren's still not able to speak, so it will be several days before he can come in."

"Keep me updated Eames. And there is something you should know. Donny Carlson was the escaped prisoner they were referring to when we arrived at Tates. You might want to pass on that little gem to your partner at your convenience." Ross's words sounded clipped as an astonished Alex listened over the phone.

_No. _

_Unbelievable._

Alex caught herself from uttering the words out loud.

"I'll be sure to pass that on, sir", answered Alex, hoping the shock in her voice was not apparent.

"Call me when you're back in the city or if you need anything. Take care, Eames. He could well take us both down with him this time", warned Ross.

"I understand, Captain. I'll be in touch."

_For Christ's Sake!_ Goren had gone into Tates for Donny and now the kid was in the wind. What the hell was Donny thinking? Couldn't he wait? Why escape now? What had gone on in Tates over the last few days? She was stunned. But then why would anything one of the Goren's did surprise her?

_Damn it!_ What was she going to tell Bobby? Did he know about Donny's escape? _Oh, this isn't fair. _Fury and frustration rose in Alex. It seemed almost everything the Goren family did was designed to cause maximum pain to Bobby. Didn't they realize what they did to him? Didn't they realize what a sensitive, gentle soul he was where family was concerned? Or was that just it? They knew exactly what he was and took every advantage of it. No wonder Bobby had kept away from Frank for years. It was self-preservation. Well, as far as she was concerned, Bobby couldn't be far enough away from Frank – or Donny. She doubted Donny had even thought about the consequences of escaping.

Alex didn't know if Donny had seen Bobby in Tates and in what state Bobby would have been in at the time. Donny wouldn't have a clue the risk Bobby had taken with his career in order to help him. Alex thought back to the expression of failure she'd seen earlier on Goren's face. Perhaps he already knew of Donny's escape. She really needed to be able to talk to Bobby. She was drowning in questions.

At least they had undeniable confirmation something evil was going on in Tates. What had happened to Goren should happen to no prisoner and Goren would soon be the living voice of truth. One thing Alex did know. Presuming he didn't know, she wasn't going to tell Bobby about Donny until they were back in the city. She'd make sure he was insulated from everyone until she'd had her opportunity to unravel it out with him. That meant avoiding the local police. God, she hoped no one at Tates had made the connection between Bobby and Donny. What would Bobby have said while he was drugged? She doubted he could remember. Had he let it slip that he was a cop? He'd made sure they'd have a hard time verifying that. But could that have triggered his mistreatment? Her brain began to burn with so many possibilities.

Just as she was starting to fret about being away from Goren, the rental car and driver pulled up.

"You Detective Eames?"

**

By the time she was finished at the rental agency and was headed out shopping, Alex had calmed down. One thing at a time. She had made sure they got the biggest, most comfortable SUV the rental firm had available. NYPD owed at least that much to Goren for his incredible arrest record. There was no way she was taking him home in the Honda the agency had picked her up in. The few times he'd been in hers, it had seemed as if his knees were jammed near his ears as he folded into it. He'd had to move every time she changed gears. After her kidnapping, she'd gotten rid of that Honda at Goren's urging. She didn't know the details at first, but he cleaned all her belongings out of her car telling her it had been stolen and needed to be towed for "repairs". He'd placed all her belongs in the rental car he'd arranged with her brother. After learning the complete story, she had no problem selling her poor car. She had bought a small SUV in spite of really wanting to challenge Goren with a vintage Mustang. She remembered his broad quiet smile when she told him what she _hadn't_ bought.

Alex's next mission was clothes shopping. Wal-mart would provide fast and inexpensive choices for everything they'd need. Before she grabbed a shopping cart, she headed for McDonald's to snatch a fast burger and coffee. A quick call to the nurses' station in ICU told her that Goren was doing fine. The police had come by but they had been told he was too ill to talk and should come back. _Good._

Alex started her clothes shopping expedition with items for herself, collecting new underwear, a tank top and hoodie as well as some comfortable draw-string lounge pants to wear when she was back at Goren's. She didn't want to stop at her place before taking him home and she wouldn't leave him right away. This was her chance to take care of everything she'd need. Her list was in her head and she hoped she wasn't too tired and distracted to remember it all.

Next she headed for the pharmacy to pick up some shampoo, a hairbrush and deodorant, as well as toothpaste and toothbrushes for both of them. She also cruised the food department throwing soup, bread, milk, eggs, a bag of salad and of course, coffee, into her rapidly filling cart. The food would stay cool in the back of the SUV.

Now for him. Oh, boy. Thank goodness this Wal-mart had a big and tall section. Okay, where to start. Inside out? _Oh, geez, how about bottom to top...._ Size 13 shoes? Okay, these full footed slip-on slippers would get him home. Socks, that was easy. Now it was going to get harder.

A young sales assistant approached her and Alex decided her help might speed things up. She wasn't comfortable leaving Bobby for long, being away from him made her anxious. She didn't ask herself why.

The young sales girl was tall and willowy, close to six feet, Alex guessed. "I need some drawstring lounge pants." Alex said to her. She had decided against jeans and was looking for something more comfortable for the long car ride. But she had to thank the manufacturers of men's jeans, as each pair advertised waist and leg length on the hip. Even the world's worst detective would have known Goren's size, information she now shared with the sales girl. Alex clacked the hangers around the rack and selected a pair of solid dark gray pants, deciding that color was safe. She held the pants up against her to assess the length of the leg. His waist landed just under her breast height, she figured. She felt like a shrimp. All this clothing dwarfed her, but yes, these would do.

"T-shirts", was Alex's next request to the sales girl. As they approached the appropriate racks, the girl turned to Alex asking "How big is your guy?" and with her hands gestured three general shoulder widths.

Alex smiled. "Wide".

The cheery sales girl smiled in return. "Oooo, lots to love!"

"Warmth in the winter, shade in the summer" Alex shot back, and a huge smile spread across her face as the absolute wicked truth of that comment dawned on her for the first time.

"My Dad's a big guy, too", chuckled the girl.

Considering the girl's height, that was no surprise to Alex. She supposed Goren could easily have kids that tall. Hmmm. Goren with children of his own. What an interesting concept. What would they be like? Beyond the height issue which would be dependent on the mother, she wondered about character. Her amused smile changed to an affectionate smile. They'd be amazing kids…. They'd be bloody lucky kids. They would be adored. She hoped for their sake that they would carry Bobby's traits and none shown by the rest of his family. Alex was almost positive that the reason Bobby had never formed a serious or permanent relationship with a woman was the fear of passing on his family's crippling mental illness or predispositions to addiction. She strongly believed nurturing would be a huge component of creating a thriving adult; things missing from the young Bobby's life would need to be there in his child's. She knew he would not make the mistakes of his parents. The more she'd gleaned about his family and his upbringing, the more she marvelled at how he had survived as such a strong and successful individual. The direction of her thoughts stopped her dead in the aisle. Okay, this was not part of the agenda for the day. Time to get back on track.

Just as her tall sales girl was presenting her a package of white t-shirts, Alex spotted the black ones. Alex just couldn't seem to wipe the smile off her face. They had to be black. Alex had to admit, there was definitely something... well... _hot_ about Goren in a black t-shirt.

With the black t-shirts added to her shopping cart, Alex and the sales girl headed for sports shirts. The plaid lumberjack look wasn't going to do it for her, but after quickly assessing the selection, Alex pulled out a dark blue, black and grey vertically striped shirt. Yup, let's go with that, she thought. On a nearby rack there were some fleece hoodies. There wasn't a lot of choice, but this would do in place of a jacket. She settled for dark charcoal like the pants. Everything matched, but in the back of her mind, she'd been tempted to present Goren with a bag of clothes better suited to a circus act….

As she headed for the underwear, Alex thanked God men didn't wear bras. However. She could never get over the variety of men's briefs and boxers. Come on, Alex. Think of this as a job, not that what you choose is going to be lying against your partner's delicate skin.

But finally, Alex allowed the devil in her to take control. With twitching lips that were still smiling, she plunged her cart though the aisle of packages displaying buff, dangerous looking men posing with hips thrust forward. Crotch-watching was not something Alex routinely participated in. Something had to be pretty obvious to draw her attention. Well, something in this aisle drew her attention. Boxer briefs. White. Definitely not tighty-whities, but long and snug and oh! so smooth over the butt. Goren would refer to it as the gluteus, but "butt" worked just fine for her. With a check of the waist size, the package arced gracefully through the air into the shopping cart. Done. Ah, she'd like to be a fly on the wall to hear her partner's reaction when he pulled those out of the shopping bag. Although she wasn't completely sure, she didn't think these would be his usual "flavor" of undergarment.

And then a hanger at the end of the aisle caught her eye. _Oh, this couldn't be real…._ Displayed on the end-cap was a pair of men's boxers in blue and navy exactly the colours of their uniforms and shirts. Printed on the boxers was a wide belt just below the waistband and on the belt was a holstered gun, a police badge strategically located, a flashlight on one hip and a set of handcuffs on the other. Alex's smile was huge. **This **was a no-brainer. She picked up the hanger and held the boxers up to the check the size. Her smile tipped into a giggle. She clasped the hanger and its contents to her and laughed. She buried her face in the boxers and laughed harder. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. These were the funniest things she'd seen in years! The laughter rippled through her abdomen and took her breath away. She bent over double, her body shaking anew, as she considered buying a pair for herself. She laughed until the laughs turned to sobs.

So close. She'd come so close to losing him. And this nightmare was not going to end yet. Everything she had built her life on over the last eight years was crumbling around her. She wasn't sure she could stop it.

"Ma'am? Ma'am! Are you all right? Should I call an ambulance?" The poor sales clerk was clearly distressed at the sudden and overwhelming change in Alex's behaviour.

By this time, Alex was sitting cross-legged on the floor wedged between circular racks filled with clothing. With her face still pressed into the boxers, she held up one hand to stop the clerk from calling 911.

"I'm sorry", she hiccupped. "I just need a minute. I'll be fine." When Alex finally put the boxers on her lap, the first thing she saw was the anxious face of the sales girl crouched down beside her. Alex drew in a couple of deep breaths and stood up. Thank God they hadn't drawn a crowd. But Alex's face was turning red in embarrassment anyway. With her hair pulled back, she had nowhere to hide. The sweet young sales girl insisted on accompanying her to the checkout and found some tissues for Alex to wipe her unstoppable tears. At least the hysterical sobbing had stopped. _Geez, Eames, get it together._ She must be far more tired than she thought.

Just as the policeman boxers went through the checkout, she spotted some lip products. She added two Burt's Bees Lip Balm to her purchases. She had the feeling Goren was going to need it once the ointment was gone - which brought back the vision of Goren holding up his tube of lip ointment. She smiled, quietly this time, and shook her head at the thought of him.

She paid quickly, grabbed the bags and headed out into the thinning light of the cold November day to the SUV.


	11. Requite

My apologies for the delay of this chapter. Real Life really got in the way. Thanks for your patience. I hope you enjoy Chapter 11. There is still more to come!

* * *

**"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."  
~ Rumi **

11. Re-quite

Faith hung her coat on the hook behind the main desk at the ICU nursing station. She felt like she had just left. Good thing she didn't pull these shifts very often. They were too tiring. One thing that would make this shift more interesting was that she'd seen Mr. Goren in the hallway as she arrived. He had nodded acknowledgement to her as she came in; she was surprised he remembered her. He was looking far better than this morning. Alex would be very relieved and Faith was delighted she would get to see more of Alex and her partner's interaction. She smiled to herself as she started to go over the patient list. It was a quiet day, but that could change at any moment. She hadn't noticed if Mr. Goren still had the cross wrapped around his fingers....

As Alex rounded the corner into the hallway she saw Faith at the nurse's station and smiled tiredly at her. Then she caught sight of Goren and her stomach did a flip-flop of relief. He was out in the hallway, hands clasped behind his back, reading something on the wall. She would have recognized that stance no matter what Goren was wearing. She was sure he'd be happy to see his new clothes, because right now he was sporting a flimsy, faded cotton hospital gown with tiny flowers topped with a pale blue terry robe. But nothing could camouflage the broad shoulders and the distinctive curve of his back as he hunched forward to inspect the plaque. Alex would have known him anywhere, wearing anything, at any distance. From the knees down his legs were bare, except for fresh white gauze around the ankles. The long calves ended in surprisingly delicate ankles and white slip-on hospital slippers. For a guy so tall and with such broad shoulders, he had very fine bone structure. Except for the attire, Robert Goren looked almost normal from a distance. But she wasn't likely going to get used to that 5 day growth of beard on his face. As she got closer, he heard and recognized her footsteps. She could seldom sneak up on him. He had a sixth sense of her whereabouts. Now he turned his head, raising his eyebrows in undisguised pleasure and satisfaction at seeing her. He'd had a shower.

"What? You developed an allergy to a razor?" she beamed her pleasure at seeing him up and out of his hospital bed. In reply to her comment, he extended his hand and exaggerated the obvious tremors he was experiencing. "Ahh." She understood and immediately became more serious. He tilted his head, chin forward in a look of curiosity. _Did she really care that he hadn't shaved?_

"They cut you loose!", said Alex avoiding his curious gaze He nodded and spread his arms wide indicating his lack of tethers to medical paraphernalia.

"Still no voice, huh?" He shook his head. _Of course wasn't this the way she liked her men? She'd said they talk too much....._His mind roamed back to her comment at the end of the Keith Ramsey case. He and Carver had shared a look of incomprehension at her remark, but then she was completely fed up with men after dealing with the harassment and manipulating baggage handlers of Trans Union Air. But she had loved playing the Queen of Sheba and arresting Ramsey. Some of their best work was those times they made the perps squirm. Alex was amazing. She always seemed to know where he was leading next. She had a gift for it.

"Allowed to leave yet?" He shook his head again, then unexpectedly reached out with his finger and lifted a single tear from the corner of Alex's eye. He raised both eyebrows to ask the silent question, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern. If he didn't know better, he'd say she'd been crying, her eyes still swollen and shining.

"It's cold out", she deflected. She did not meet his gaze.

Faith was still behind the desk at the nursing station, watching the reunion of the two partners and particularly Mr. Goren's body language and expressions. _Oh, this is good! _Well worth the short turn-around in shifts. As she had suspected, this was not unrequited love. It may be unspoken, but she had no doubt it was there.

"Here you go. These are for you. I hope they're all right." Alex handed Goren his bag of clothing and they made their way back into his room. He went around to one side and set the bag down on the bed. Alex went to the opposite side with her bag.

Goren opened his bag to look inside and glancing up at her, tried his best to show his gratitude using only his eyes. Then he peered more closely into the bag and reached inside to move things around. His eyebrows knit together. He placed his hands wide apart on the bed and dropped his head down. His shoulders began to shake. As she watched him, Alex's own eyebrows knit together and her concern began to rise. Suddenly Goren doubled over, placed his elbows on the bed, and laced his fingers in his prison cut curls. His shoulders continued shaking and he began to make hoarse coughing sounds.

Alex was already moving around the bed to his side, adrenalin pumping and panic rising. She didn't understand; _what was the matter?_ He was looking so much better just a few seconds ago. She placed one hand on his back and quickly reached past him for the nurses' call button. Before she touched it, his hand snapped out and grabbed her wrist. He drew himself up to his full height, turning his head sideways to look down at her. His reddened eyes were crinkled and wet at the corners, and the hand that was not gripping her wrist was clapped over his mouth. He released her hand, lifted his fingers in the air signalling her to wait a moment and reached down into the bag to coax out the policeman boxers that had initially caused her so much amusement in the store. He lifted them gingerly in the air between index fingers and thumbs of both hands, each pinkie raised in dainty salute. His eyes widened and gleamed and the muscles in his jaw flexed as he stared at the policeman's boxers. Goren rolled his eyes to his partner with a _You've got to be kidding me_ expression plain on his face.

"Jesus Christ, Goren!" she swore at him, "You scared the crap out of me!" He looked down at her with affection and cocked his head sympathetically to the side, the merriment in his brown eyes giving way to guilty contrition. Then a single raised and questioning eyebrow.

"Well, I liked them", she said defensively.

Alex removed her hand from his back, sorely tempted to swat him and retreated back to her bag on the other side of the bed. He was about to return his new boxers back in his bag and then frowned again. With one long elegant finger, he withdrew the ladies briefs Alex had bought for herself and stretched his arm across the bed to her. Alex rolled her eyes and felt her face heating up.

"Thanks. Guess they packed them in the wrong bag." She snatched the briefs from his finger and quickly stuffed them in her bag.

Goren calmly nodded his agreement, but could not disguise a twinkle in his bloodshot eyes. _That man can say way too much with his eyes._

"You're obviously feeling much better." She said with mock acidity. "Any word about when they'll release you?"

He shook his head.

"Well, then I'm going to see if I can take a shower here. If not I'll find a gym or recreation center. I'll let you know if I leave the building."

But before Alex could leave, Goren motioned her to stop. He picked up a pencil and paper from beside his bed and jotted a note which he then passed to Alex. His demeanour was now dead serious.

_Was it Donny?_

"What do you mean?" Alex asked with caution in her voice. Of course he would pick up on that right away, but she wasn't trying to keep anything from him. She just wanted to avoid giving away information that he would churn over in his mind without the ability to discuss it.

_Escape from Tates._

There was no keeping it from him. "Yes, how did you know?" she asked. She knew better than be surprised. This was Robert Goren, and no matter what he'd been through, it was obvious he was rapidly returning to normal.

He held up a newspaper which he must have "borrowed" from a lounge or a nurse. Alex would normally have rolled her eyes at his constant resourcefulness, but not today.

"I'm so sorry, Bobby." She said with genuine regret showing on her face. "I just found out. Let me see the paper. I only know what Ross told me – which is nothing. I'll find out more when we get back."

The article said very little except there was an escaped prisoner from Tates Corrections and that he was not considered dangerous. He had escaped while being transferred to the hospital on Halloween night.

"I'm sorry", Alex repeated as she shook her head. She tried to read the expression in his eyes as he watched her, but his eyes were hooded and he was doing his best to be inscrutable. He looked tired.

"We can't do anything till we know more", Alex said quietly. She was making a valiant effort not to start a rant about Donny's stupidity and ungratefulness. "Are you okay?"

He just continued to stare at her, his mind obviously far away.

"Listen, why don't you have a nap while I find a shower?" He nodded absently, all the amusement of the previous minutes drained away. "Just take it easy. We'll get all the details soon" she said with an encouraging smile. She hoped he'd take the "we" as it was offered and not try to shut her out. _You don't have to deal with this alone._

Alex picked up her bag of clothing and toiletries and walked out of the room.

And the air cooled…

* * *

He was getting fed up with being left behind, but at the same time his body continued to feel like he'd been hit by a truck. How mundane to use that analogy, but it just seemed to fit. Every muscle ached. He was ready to lie down again, but decided to dress. As he shut himself in his small hospital bathroom, the amusement started to bubble up again, in spite of his concern over Donny.

He stifled a chuckle as best he could. Poor Alex, having to shop for him. It was very strange to think about. The first thing he'd have to do was decide on this underwear. He wished he could have seen Alex doing her shopping. He was very curious about what had gone on in her head. She had such a wicked sense of humor, but he wasn't sure where she was coming from when she had made her selections. Everything she had chosen fit. She'd done very well, but then he expected nothing else. _Interesting about the black t-shirts..._ He left his hospital clothes in the laundry hamper outside his room and went back to lay on the bed while he waited for her. It was nice to be free, no oximeter on his finger, no IV in his shoulder, no repetitive beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor.... He was asleep in seconds.

* * *

The hot shower pelting her body felt wonderful. Alex lathered a mountain of shampoo in her hair, scrubbing her overdue scalp and then rinsing the streams of bubbles down her back. Soothing. She closed her eyes and allowed the water to beat against her shoulders, easing away some of the stress of the last week. The steam rose up around her. All she wanted to do was put on some pajamas and crawl into bed and forget the whole last week. But not yet. Reluctantly, she twisted the tap forcing the water to cool. She had a long drive ahead of her, so this was no time to enjoy a relaxing shower. _Darn._ Soon enough, she hoped. Goren had a good shower at his place and his oversize couch was nice and long, so she would sleep well - if he did.

Her clean body and fresh clothes felt wonderful. She brushed her hair and left it loose. It would dry on its own. She was trying not to put any thought into their situation until Goren could discuss things.

When she returned to Goren's room, he was fully clothed and sound asleep on the bed. His color was returning to normal she noted with satisfaction, but even in sleep he still looked exhausted. His lips were still a mess, but appeared less swollen and some of the loose skin had fallen off. His eyes didn't look as sunken. She felt as if a great weight was being lifted from her shoulders as she stood quietly and watched him. Whatever came next, they would deal with it. There was that plural again. _We_ will deal with it.

Alex suddenly realized that Faith was standing beside her. Faith returned her smile.

"Our patient is looking much better this afternoon, Alex", Faith whispered. "How about you? Better?"

Alex nodded her head. "So much better, thanks. The shower helped a lot." Alex turned and the two women began walking out of the room and into the hallway so their conversation wouldn't disturb Goren.

"Faith, you wouldn't have seen my cross on the floor or found it in Bobby's bedding, would you?"

"No." Faith replied in a puzzled tone. "I wonder where it went? We should ask Jane, or do you want me to ask Mr. Goren?"

"No", Alex quickly replied. "We don't need to bring it up".

"I'll keep my eyes open for it, especially if we don't find it before you leave."

"Any idea when the doctor might be back?"

"That's up to Mr. Goren. When he can talk, we'll notify Dr. Knowland. We checked him over just before you arrived. He's doing very well considering what he's been through."

Alex nodded her understanding and agreement, relief brightening her face.

"Alex, would you like me to bring you a cot so you can get a bit of rest?"

"No, thanks, I'll be fine in the chair." Alex smiled to herself. There was no way she would be climbing back into bed with Bobby. He'd probably have a heart attack, or jump out of the bed or yell sexual harassment... or worse, waggle his finger at her like he did to Nicole. Yuck. Why did she have to think of that? She certainly never wanted to be classed in the same category as Bobby placed Nicole.

"Please let me get you a cot, you may as well be comfortable while you wait." Faith turned and went on her errand.

As she waited, Alex returned to Goren's bedside. His eyelashes lay against his cheeks; his hands were clasped in his lap, the bandages peaking out the cuffs of his new shirt. The black t-shirt was just visible in the V of his shirt collar. She stood watching his sleeping face and hearing his even breathing, once again in awe and satisfaction that she was one of the privileged few who could be this close to him. Her relief at his recovery left her feeling limp. She reached her hand up to rub her forehead, then rested her forehead in her hand and closed her eyes. _She_ was exhausted.

She opened her eyes. Goren's shopping bag lay on the floor with his leftover toiletries. There would be one pair of underwear inside. Which one was he wearing? Just as she was reaching down to peek Faith returned, rolling the small cot, and parked it beside the hospital bed. Alex snatched her hand back from the bag as though she'd burnt it. The contents remained a mystery.

Faith handed Alex her blanket and whispered, "There you go". Alex sat down on the cot and removed her boots, then lay down on her side facing Goren. The moment she lay down, it was as if every one of her muscles sighed. Her bones seemed to melt into the bed.

She'd hear him if he got up…..

* * *

"Eames." It was a rough husky whisper.

Nothing.

It appeared she had fallen asleep on her side, but now her shoulders were rotated and her face pointed upwards. He had no coffee to rouse her. He waited. Then he reached out and slowly rubbed the back of his hand up and down her softly flushed cheek.

Nothing.

Her breathing was steady and determined. He went down on one knee beside her cot and rested his crossed arms on his thigh watching her. She smelled wonderfully fresh – not quite the same as his usual Eames, because of the different soaps, but there was something that was distinctly Eames and he would know her even in the blackest night.

He reached out again, this time with his fingers. He ran them across her forehead, pushing back her hair and tucking the strands behind her ear. He often wanted to do that; to see the expression that would be hiding behind her hair. He always paused momentarily if the wind whipped her hair from her face and unexpectedly revealed her beauty. And she was a beauty, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Some day he must tell her that. But he knew he'd never have the nerve.

He waited.

Nothing.

He put his whole hand on the side of her head, burying his fingers in her hair, and rubbed her cheek gently with his thumb. He couldn't believe he was being so bold. With eyes still closed, she pushed her face against his hand, trapping it against the pillow, her exhaled breath hitting him on the inside of his wrist. But her eyes didn't open.

_Awww, Alex_. He was weakened by the sweetness of her unconscious movement and the sensuality of her warm breath caressing his skin. It awakened a tenderness in him that had been repressed for a very long time. Who did she dream was touching her? She would be appalled if she knew what he was feeling right now. The last thing she ever wanted from her colleagues was any sentiment or emotion directed towards her. She always had to be one of the guys. But right now, she looked exhausted. He seldom saw that and it worried him. He'd never had any trouble waking her before. Maybe they should just stay here another night. The hand on the head hadn't worked. What next? He considered kissing the Sleeping Beauty, but was pretty sure that would earn him a black eye he didn't need.

"Alex."

And suddenly he was staring into her hugely dilated hazel eyes less than a foot from his own. When did he get this close? The jolt he felt showed in her eyes, too. _She was gorgeous._ His first reflex was to jerk his hand out from under her head, in case she didn't want to be touched, but then didn't want to make her think he thought she was a leper. He was kind of trapped here...

"Uh, we can go now," his voice a gravelled whisper.

The shock of waking to his face inches from hers was replaced by confusion.

"You can talk!" Alex exclaimed and immediately felt stupid for stating the obvious. But then it wasn't fair to hold her responsible for something she said waking from a dead sleep.

He replied with a slight stretching of the lips in what could be interpreted as a smile. He leaned away from her and she rose up on her elbow, still sleep-fogged. He hadn't needed to extract his hand.

"What time is it? Have you seen the doctor?" Now that was more like his Eames. They were both control freaks in their own ways.

He nodded and pointed to the clock, answering both questions without a word.

"Okay. I'm ready." Pushing back the blanket, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the cot, suddenly aware that Goren was down on one knee. She now felt she knew what it was like to be a corpse examined by Goren's acute eye. Pity that the corpses he knelt over were.... well, dead. Under different circumstances, the lady victims probably would have been thrilled to have him bending over them. And probably some of the men, too.

Goren rose along side her as she stood up and looked around, still disoriented from the abrupt waking. She could sure use a cup of coffee right now. Faith entered the room pushing a wheelchair.

"So you'll be leaving us." She said, smiling her gentle smile. "Have you got everything?" Both women looked at each other and then at Goren. _Where was that cross? _He just nodded, pulled his tube of lip ointment from his pocket to show them and then used it to point at his shopping bag which was back on the bed.

"Alex, I need you at the station. Mr. Goren, it's hospital policy that patients are wheeled to the door, so make yourself comfortable." Faith reached for Alex's blanket, folded it quickly and placed it on the seat of the wheelchair then patted it for Goren to sit down.

Alex followed Faith out to the nurse's station where Faith handed her a sheet of discharge instructions. There wasn't much there. Just that he shouldn't be alone for 48 hours and to make sure he took in plenty of fluids. He should use over the counter painkillers, if needed, and if he felt unwell, he should immediately go to the nearest emergency room. No work for a week and he had to check with his doctor before going back to work. Alex folded the paper and put it in her hip pocket.

"Alex, why don't you find a motel room for the night? I'm worried about you. I don't think you should drive. And Mr. Goren definitely shouldn't. He'll probably be asleep within five minutes."

"I'll be fine, thanks Faith," Alex replied. She preferred to drive rather than spend a night in a motel room with Goren. Too intimate. _A motel room, for God's Sake!_ Adjoining rooms would have put her too far away. She was sure he'd be more comfortable at home, so the sooner they got there, the better. "I'll make sure I get lots of coffee".

"Don't underestimate how hard this has been on you," said Faith.

* * *

Once Goren was in the SUV, Faith picked up the blanket and handed it to the shivering Alex.

"Return it when you're able, Alex. You take care of yourself. And him."

"Thank you Faith. Here is my card. Would you please call me if you have any more patients from Tates showing Detective Goren's symptoms? And if you find my necklace, I'd appreciate a call. I'll be happy to pay for the return shipping.

"Thank you for your help and kindness." Alex frowned at herself as tears started welling up in her eyes yet again. She was unused to being shown such kindness by a stranger - or anyone other than family. Something had happened to Alex in this hospital and Faith was a brief but important part of it. This hospital had been a quiet sanctuary for she and Bobby, safe from the outside world and it was almost hard for Alex to leave.

Faith moved closer to give Alex a brief hug, unsettling Alex even more.

"Touch him," Faith urged. "Tell him."

"I've watched too many people wait until it's too late. What have you got to lose?" Faith asked earnestly.

"My life", replied Alex, then walked around the to the driver's side, giving a regretful smile to Faith.

"Everything changes, Alex."


	12. Return

"Do not let loyalty and faithfulness forsake you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart." ~Proverbs

**12. Re-turn**

Faith had been right about one thing. Bobby was asleep within five minutes of leaving the hospital.

Before they got to the freeway, Alex pulled the SUV into a parking stall beside a gas station. Goren's eyes flew open as the vehicle stopped and he looked over at Alex.

"Anything you want? Need?" she asked.

A head shake was her answer and at the same time showed her his reluctance to use his voice.

He watched her disappear into the station. She'd be horrified to know she had bed-head from sleeping on her wet hair. Not that he was going to tell her; she was packing a gun again, he smiled to himself. They'd stopped briefly to pick up her gun and handcuffs from the gun locker in Emergency as they were leaving the hospital.

He tried to resist making his exit from the hospital in a wheelchair, but Faith had stuck to her guns. Alex had had no trouble pushing him in the wheelchair. She was amazingly strong. There was lot of muscle packed into that petite frame. He couldn't imagine how much weight she pressed to stay in the shape she was in. He must ask her, but he had his suspicions it had something to do with his weight. It was nice that all the workouts which had given her such lovely muscle definition, hadn't robbed her of her feminine curves. One of those softer curves had brushed him as she leaned down to remove the brake on the wheelchair. If he didn't know better, he'd think she'd done it on purpose... Normally he steered clear of any contact as he'd trained himself to do from the start, but trapped in the wheelchair, there was no way to avoid it. He should stop feeling guilty for enjoying that particular contact. He laid the responsibility for that touch squarely at her feet.

Alex came out of the gas station laden. Under one arm she carried two 6-packs of 24 ounce water bottles and in the other, the biggest cup of coffee he'd ever seen. It wasn't a cup, it was an urn. She opened her door and placed the water on her seat and the coffee in the oversized cup holder nearest the driver's seat. "Mine", Alex sternly informed him with a pointing finger. She then started pulling the bottles from their plastic holder and handed them to Goren one by one.

"How many stops were you planning to make?" he asked in a broken whisper as he armed every cup holder he could reach with a bottle of water.

The corner of Alex's lips twitched as she reached behind the seat and pulled the hospital blanket from the back and handed it to him.

"None", she replied. His look of distress was rewarded with a huge smile.

"Maybe we should get a motel room", he whispered.

_Now there's a line_, she thought wryly to herself as she tried not to show the jolt his unexpected words brought.

"I'm fine", she replied, finally making eye contact with him. "Are you? I was just kidding about no stops", she added while she carefully watched his expression.

He nodded. "I'll be fine", he whispered.

"Let's get going. There is nothing we can do here, Bobby". She paused as she searched his bloodshot eyes. "You really need to tell me everything."

He nodded his agreement as he broke their eye contact. "Soon", his low voice cracked.

She nodded back, satisfied, and reached over to push the lever that reclined his seat. He looked surprised as it jumped back slightly. Alex then took a corner of the blanket and shook it out over his legs, signalling that he should cover himself. She knew she would have to keep the SUV interior cool if she was going to stay alert.

She was sure she heard an almost inaudible "not an invalid" muttered as he straightened the blanket and she started the SUV. With luck they would make good time into the city by travelling in the middle of the night.

She worked on her coffee mile after mile. Unfortunately the caffeine took hours to kick in and it was a struggle to stay alert. The SUV was powerful, smooth and quiet. It practically drove itself. Goren dozed a lot and as the green glow from the console lit his profile, she was never completely sure if he was asleep or lost in his thoughts, as usual. He didn't talk. She was starting to worry that that his difficulty speaking might be a convenient way to shut her out, whether intentional or not.

..Plattsburg..

They had more than their usual number of pit stops on the way back to the city. At the hospital Goren had been so pumped full of fluids that his kidneys were working overtime to keep up and they were forced to pause at almost every rest stop on the way. Even he was getting tired of it, but really, she didn't care and reminded him to down another bottle of water and to add the ointment to his lips. His abused body was indicating the start of its recovery.

Alex would run around the rest area, jumping up and down in the cold night air, as she waited outside for him in virtually deserted parking lots. Between the cold and the activity, she would be refreshed for the next leg of their journey.

..Pottersville..

Goren shifted in his seat. He reminded her of her nephew when he needed to find a bathroom.

"Need to stop?" she asked.

"No." Came the hoarse reply.

_Could have fooled me..._

More shifting, then he put his hands on his thighs and pushed towards his knees as he lifted his backside. By this point she was doing double takes at him with a growing frown on her face.

He knew she needed an explanation. If he didn't, she might head for the nearest hospital. He rolled his head and eyes towards her. He cleared his throat and produced a respectable stage whisper. "About these boxers, Eames... We need to talk about the features to watch for next time you do my shopping."

Her frown relaxed as he spoke and then transformed into a magnificent smile. Not what she expected. It was hard to stop smiling at his obvious discomfort. "Next time", she repeated dryly in a voice that tried to discourage further conversation on the subject. She turned back to watching the road, but could not stop the smile. Even his lips were cautiously stretched into a smile at the unexpected intimacy.

Oh, he liked this partner! There was no one with whom he was more comfortable. He was so glad she had stayed to bring him home. He could imagine if it had been Ross. Ross would have told him to take public transit home, since that's what he'd used to get to Truby.

He had yet to thank Alex – and he had so much to thank her for. He had never experienced such personal loyalty from someone. He'd seen loyalty at its best, he'd seen it misplaced, but this had shown him how it felt to have someone there to catch you as you were falling. It was a completely new concept in his life. She might not have consented to have any part of his plan; she might not have been there waiting for his check-in phone calls; she might not have insisted that his rescue from Tates was extremely urgent. Right now he was honoured by her loyalty. Would he feel that way tomorrow when they returned to "reality", or would he be embarrassed by it: embarrassed that he needed that loyalty, embarrassed that he needed Alex as his safety net?

As a child, he had felt loyalty towards Frank. He had adored his big brother. The loss of that adoration was more than a heavy weight, it was an acute pain. He wondered if Frank had even noticed when things had changed. Probably not. Frank was too absorbed in Frank. He and Frank could not be any more different and yet, sometimes exactly the same.

He was loyal to Declan Gage, a man who had been more of a father to him than his own father – he had stood up for him as best he could when Ross, as the new captain, had harshly judged him and too hastily laid blame for the murders on him. Bobby was still loyal to Declan in spite of Eames' kidnapping, but there was a new reserve there. Caution.

He was loyal to Captain Deakins. He respected him, enjoyed his company and missed him greatly. That loyalty was certainly responsible for some of the friction between himself and Captain Ross.

Was he loyal to Alex? Absolutely. But he seldom had the opportunity to show it to her. She was so self-sufficient and careful. She worked hard to make sure she didn't put herself in a position that required any display of loyalty. It was part of being a woman in a "man's world". No weakness allowed. Would he have done the same thing for Alex as she had just done for him this last week? He couldn't even begin to answer that, because to do so would have had him admit how much he'd asked of her. Things were going to happen in the next week and he was afraid Leslie LeZard's words were going to come back to haunt them both.

"You'll never make Captain, either," Leslie had shot venomously at Eames. "You'll be tainted by him. He's insubordinate and unstable. How long before he loses it and takes you down with him?" Goren felt ill all over again as he remembered with damning clarity his words with Eames immediately afterwards. They were burned into his brain.

"Are you worried about what she said?" he'd been bold enough and worried enough to ask Alex.

Alex had replied, "I used to".

"And now?" he'd continued probing. His heart pounded as he had waited out her long pause before she spoke.

"It's too late", had been her brief and simple reply, leaving him stunned at the time and horrified now as he sat so closely beside her. It seemed Leslie LeZard had been right. He was going to take her down with him. The folly of his adventure into Tates was beginning to sink in and with Donny missing, he felt like his risk had been for nothing. He had to make sure Eames' reputation stayed clean. She didn't deserve to suffer for her loyalty. With the word "tainted" burning in his thoughts, he slipped into an uncomfortable sleep.

..Saratoga Springs..

They pulled in beside the gas pumps and Goren immediately headed for the men's room. Alex smiled quietly and started to pump the gas. She watched him disappear into the back of the gas station as her breath fogged the air around her, evaporating into the harsh lights over the gas pumps. She welcomed the shivers that came with the cold air, but wished she was back in the warm nest of the SUV. She was probably being foolish driving all the way back to the city tonight. But Bobby seemed to be doing all right. Her anxiety over his physical condition was disappearing just as each exhaled breath condensed and faded.

Alex could not help thinking about what was going to happen to her job over the next few days. She'd always gotten along well with Ross, but she was pretty sure he was not going to protect Goren over this huge indiscretion, even if he wanted to. And she would probably not fare much better herself. Ross had warned her not so long ago about who she hitched her wagon to.

"If I feel he's losing control or his judgment is off, I will come to you", she'd told Ross, valiantly attempting to buffer Goren in the hours before his mother died and Mark Ford Brady was put to death.

"Okay, Eames, he's your partner. But take care of yourself, don't let him pull you down with him."

Yes, he was her partner and she knew him better than anyone in the department – most were afraid to know him. But was he pulling her down? Alex thought back and again cursed Leslie LeZard who had so recently put her in such an awkward position in front of Goren and forced Alex to try to sidestep admission of her true feelings. Leslie's wild stabs at the two partners as she was led away in handcuffs, had hit home to a more vulnerable Goren. Uncharacteristically, he confronted Alex, asking if she thought she'd been tainted by him. He'd know if she was lying, so there was no point in that. She had hesitated too long to flip off a light snark, so she had replied "It's too late". After she'd said it, it occurred to her that he might have taken it the wrong way. Alex didn't mean that he was losing it and that she was going down with him. What she had really meant was that it was far too late to even worry about it; she'd long ago decided that partnering with him was the best thing that could have happened to her. Being put on the spot, she just couldn't seem to give him the honest answer he needed to hear. The way it had come out of her mouth had seemed harsh even to her ears. She wasn't accustomed to being questioned by an uncertain Robert Goren seeking reassurance. She'd handled it poorly, but she had been a tad pissed at him for initially liking the ruthless LeZard. Alex would forever delight in misspelling the wretched woman's name as LiZard. It wasn't the first time Goren had been softened by a psycho female and it probably wouldn't be the last. She didn't think there was anything she could do to prevent it, though. Not without ruining their finely tuned working relationship.

If she believed what everyone else told her, yes, being with Goren was a huge liability to her career, but she hadn't taken the job to get noticed, to climb, what the Old Boys' Club called, the ladder of success. Goren gave her exactly what she needed – professionally speaking. She was exactly where she was most effective and seldom wondered what her life would be like if she hadn't met Robert Goren.

But she felt the inevitable hurricane brewing around her complicity in Goren's scheme. Her sigh was visible in the freezing air, curling as it hit the SUV and creating a storm of its own.

Inside the station, Alex filled a Styrofoam cup with coffee and carefully fit the plastic lid on the rim. Her hands were shaking. Oh, great, she thought. Lack of sleep and a caffeine high. Good thing she wasn't on the job, but then she seldom needed this much caffeine when they worked a case. Thrill of the chase substituted for caffeine. She wound her way around the junk food displays to the counter to pay for the gas, coffee and her much needed bag of Skittles. As she stood counting out the money, she knew he was behind her, she didn't have to look. When she raised her eyes, he was there like always, dwarfing her, his figure clearly reflected in the towering windows spanning the front of the station. Something caught in her throat again and they stared at one another in the reflection, neither face giving away the thoughts behind. The moment was broken as the attendant reached for the money she was holding out.

Alex stepped outside and headed towards the SUV with her giant, quiet shadow close behind. She didn't notice he was still behind her until she opened the driver's door. She looked at him with surprise as she climbed in and he held the door. He never came around to her side of the vehicle. "Okay?" he rasped as he regarded her with concerned brown eyes. "Fine", she replied, still surprised. She could count on one hand the number of times he'd asked that question over the years. He nodded, still observing her with a careful eye, then gently shut her door with a click.

..Albany..

Alex was so tired. She wished they were closer to the city and could pick up 101.9FM. Goren enjoyed the Matt Pinfield show but unfortunately it would be another three hours before he would be on the air. It was a good thing they were compatible when listening to music, at least she assumed they were. He never complained. Alex tended to prefer contemporary women vocalists, but Goren was all over the map with what appeared to be widely eclectic tastes. She was never sure if he liked something or whether his listening was simply academic information-gathering for future reference. The real tell was when he asked to hear something again. He was obviously happy as long as the music had rhythm. Goren certainly had rhythm. He was a beautiful ballroom dancer.

She'd never forget watching him dance with their suspect Margie Timmons just after Alex had returned from maternity leave. They had been out following leads and had hit the jackpot at the last dance studio they visited. Alex had partnered with a short, rigid, but enthusiastic dance partner who held her self-consciously at an arms-length as he moved her around the floor counting every step. In sharp contrast, Goren glided skilfully over the dance floor, oozing confidence, competence and familiarity with every step. He held his tall partner firmly with the correct distance between their bodies; not too closely to offend her, but not too far away that there was no intimacy. Goren simultaneously choreographed his movements and his plan for playing Margie. Both appeared effortless, but then that was the Robert Goren Alex loved watching in action. She was fascinated when observing this master of manipulation.

As a dancer, he stood out in that crowd, head and shoulders above them all; broad shoulders made broader by his finely cut suit which pulled snugly across his back to accentuate the V- shape narrowing to his hips. With hormones still raging so shortly after giving birth, Alex had watched him with different eyes. She normally tried not to notice Goren's masculinity, but all she could think about that day was if he moved like that on the dance floor, what would he be like... ? That question would certainly go unanswered. It would be in her best interest to be partnered with a eunuch at that point in her life instead of this beautiful vision of a man.

Every day, no matter where they were, the partners seldom went for more than a few minutes without catching the others' eye. When Goren was out dancing was no exception. He dominated the dance floor with fluid transitions which could be almost catlike. His feet would move quickly, but his shoulders gave the impression he was floating. Alex was always stunned that he could be so clumsy in the office, but as soon as the music started, he transformed into poetry in motion.

His dance partner was always convinced she had captured Goren's complete attention, but Alex, standing aside, knew better. Alex had been the recipient of sultry looks and devilish glances. The sultry look had taken her off guard, but the devilish glance had come from a playful Goren who couldn't seem to stop expressing his joy at her return to work. _Watch this_, his expression had said. He had spun Margie Timmons effortlessly, literally turning the reserved woman into a breathless blushing schoolgirl.

One of these days, Alex thought she might actually be in the right place at the right time to dance with him. Strictly as a professional curiosity, of course. She'd have to make sure she had her highest heels on that day or she'd hate to think what part of her anatomy would be tucked up close to which part of his anatomy. They would be ridiculously mis-matched.

Suddenly, Goren's hand was firmly gripping her thigh and his husky whispered voice asked, "Are you all right?"

Alex jumped and jerked her foot off the accelerator. _How did he know she was starting to fade? _

"Yes, I'm fine! Geez, Goren, don't do that!"

"Too bad Pinfield isn't on yet", he whispered, ignoring her start. Alex felt like she'd just had her mind read, and really didn't appreciate it considering what had been going through it.

"We should stop. You need a break." He had worked out the timeline and realized how little sleep she had had in the past few days. They didn't have to be back in the city tonight.

"We're close enough, Bobby, let's just keep going."

Twenty miles down the road his hot hand still rested on her thigh and she was wide awake.

..Brooklyn..

It was a relief when they pulled up outside his building at 4 a.m. She couldn't safely have driven much longer. Goren awoke as she was parking the SUV. It was a small miracle she'd found street parking so close. He rolled his blanket up and put it inside his shopping bag. Alex grabbed her bag, locked up the SUV and pulled out her personal keys. She always carried one of Goren's keys on her ring with her, although she'd only ever used it once before, right after Frances had died. Again it felt strange to have Bobby standing behind her as she opened his door.

A billow of frigid air followed them through the entrance, but it wasn't much warmer inside. The air was stale, even though Bobby had only been gone a week. She closed the door quietly watching him. He stood for a moment in the kitchen without moving as though re-orienting himself to a place he had known in a different lifetime. Then he gently placed the shopping bag on the kitchen table and went to turn on the heat. Once adjusted, he turned to her.

"You don't need to stay", his voice cracked as he looked down at her through hooded eyes.

The look on Alex's face had him immediately responding by holding both hands up, palms toward her. With a deep nod and expression of surrender, he indicated he'd changed his mind about recommending she leave.

"Right back" he whispered, and headed to the bathroom.

Alex shook her head and smiled. The poor guy.

Alex, remembering the groceries, ran out to the SUV and brought in the bags she'd picked up earlier in the day. She quickly unpacked and put them away in Goren's kitchen. It was still too cold inside to take off her jacket, but she slipped her boots off near the door. She reached into his shopping bag and pulled out the hospital blanket which was still warm from his body. She wrapped it around herself and went to sit cross-legged on the couch. A handy throw pillow was appropriated for resting her head in a few minutes. She would stay awake just long enough to use the bathroom and make sure Bobby was settled for what was left of the night.

When Goren came out of the bathroom, he found Eames a bundled mound on the couch. All he could see was her hair, the blanket and a few toes peeking out. He suspected that she was already asleep and went to get her more blankets.

"Eames?" he whispered.

Alex lifted her chin to his voice and opened one eye to peer at him.

"Here are a couple of blankets. Will you be warm enough?"

"I'll be fine." She replied.

"Do you want a t-shirt to sleep in?"

"Sure, I'll take a small. Have anything in pink?"

"No, but you can have this one", and he handed her a well worn gray academy t-shirt. "I grew out of it", he said seriously.

Alex opened her mouth to say something and immediately shut it again.

"You're welcome" he murmured with an amused expression, as she passed him on the way to the bathroom with t-shirt in hand. _No Eames, I don't have a drawer full of women's clothing, just in case..._

In the bathroom mirror Alex observed the reflection of the exhausted woman staring back at her. Her hand automatically went to her bare neck. She was going to miss that cross. It had become part of her. She was sure it had been bundled up in some towels or sheets by a nurse. Bobby had been in such bad shape that he probably hadn't even noticed it wrapped around his fingers. It saddened her to think that secret bond between them was gone forever.

Alex's eyes moved back to her reflected face. Bobby hadn't mentioned the bedhead, but then he rarely saved her from lettuce between the teeth either. He had come to the rescue of her dignity once when she'd inadvertently walked out of the ladies room trailing toilet paper stuck to the sole of her boot. She'd seen his eyes flick to her feet and without lifting his head from his paperwork, his long navy-suited arm had stretch across his desk and pointed to her foot... Pity she'd never caught him with his fly down. She had collected a few snarks which would suit that occasion. She had no intentions of missing that opportunity.

Alex quickly brushed her teeth with the brush and toothpaste she'd picked up at Wal-mart. She was going to forgo the anticipated shower. She just wanted to get to sleep. Reluctantly, she removed her jacket in the chilly bathroom and loosened her belt. Her pants hit the floor with a thump. _Oh shoot!_ She shouldn't do that. Goren would be in the other room wincing as he heard her holstered gun hit the floor. She _must_ be tired to let that happen. She stripped everything off but her panties. She wasn't going to have her backside showing to the world – or Robert Goren. She pulled the t-shirt over her head and it settled on one shoulder and slid halfway down the other. Oh, well, beggars can't be choosers. She just needed a belt and she would be set with a sexy off-the-shoulder summer dress. Or not. _What the well-dressed New Yorker will be wearing next summer._

When Alex came out of the bathroom, Bobby was already in bed with the lights out. Alex stuck her head around the door frame. "You okay? Do you need anything", she asked, and then added "Do you have water beside you?"

"I'm fine. You can stop worrying about me, Alex. Sleep well," came the hoarse reply.

The darkness hid her shock at the use of her first name. "Goodnight Bobby." She said quietly and sighed with relief. She was far more comfortable back in the city where she had the illusion she was in control. But she had no illusions that she could stop worrying. There was a lot to discuss in the morning.

Turning from the bedroom doorway she could see he'd been busy. There was a bottle of water and glass on the coffee table, accompanied by a small circle of Skittles. The three blankets had been spread neatly on the couch and a real pillow with a fresh crisp pillowcase had been added. She smiled at his attention to detail, but tonight she would have been happy on a park bench covered in newspapers. As she turned out the light and crawled under the blankets, her body began its rapid cascade towards deep sleep. Nothing was going to keep her awake. No dreams would invade her sleep.

The worst was over.

* * *

Chapter 13 coming soon...


	13. Replay

**If we knew each other's secrets, what comforts we should find.  
****~John Churton Collins**

**13. Re-play**

"Robert Goren. William Brady"

"Well which one is it?"

"I'm also Robert Goren"

The drugs burned inside his arm as they rapidly wound their way towards his brain, carrying the poison with the power to rob him of all reasoning power. He feared the loss of his mind most of all. He broke out in a sweat. It was taking everything he had to keep on track and confuse this doctor. It was okay. He was still in control. He knew schizophrenia. He had watched its insidious miasma engulf his mother over many years. It should be easy to convince this doctor that he was its victim as well. It would work if he could control the unwelcome toxin flooding his body.

As the days in Tates wore on, it had become easier and easier to keep the dull look in his eyes. At first he was afraid he'd give himself away with a sharp glance of awareness, but that was no longer a problem. Cheeking the pills wasn't working as well as he'd hoped. They were so powerful that even a short time in his mouth allowed the drugs to seep into his system.

_I'll find Donny. I'll make sure he's all right. I'll fix this. If I just keep pushing, I'll get what I want. I need to access to the Isolation wing. _

"No, you don't want that", the doctor told him urgently. But it was too late. The warden was there with her entourage of guards and it was done. The shaking of his leg as he was taken away in a wheelchair was not an act. He was nervous. He was sweating. He glimpsed Donny's face in the filthy scratched window and heard his muffled incredulous "_Bobby?_" as he was rolled directly to Heaven. _Oh, shit. No._

_No._

"Come on. Come on. Let's get out of here." The adrenalin was roaring in his ears. He knew the guards could see his growing panic.

"How long do I have to be in here?" _How do I get out of this? What can I say to get out of this? _

_It's all right. Relax. It won't be long._ He tried to soothe himself as they pushed him prone onto the stainless steel slab and buckled the restraints around him. Soon he was alone. _Alone._ If someone was here he could talk his way out of this. But there was no one.

It was _so_ hot. Fluorescent lights lined the ceiling above him humming and sizzling as though the sun was frying them. Every few minutes the boiler groaned and pipes banged. The drugs tried to dull him, but he struggled against them. If he just concentrated more he would figure how to get out. It wasn't long before he knew the layout of every corner of this room that was visible to him; the location of every pipe, every light, every wire and every crack in the wall. Odours were different depending on which way he turned his head. The rancid sweat of other men's bodies, the stench of stale urine. He was soaked, the sweat trickled off his forehead and through his scalp. He couldn't wipe it off. So he thrashed his head left and right, flinging the drops over the edge of his stainless steel bed and arcing them across the floor.

"Can I get some water, please?" _Be polite, be submissive_. If he could get them back in here he could talk his way out of this. He could control the situation like he always did. Although he was soaked, his mouth was parched. And no one came. That's when he started counting backwards from ten. He knew if he could do that that everything would be all right. It became a mantra. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. He nodded in satisfaction. He was in control.

And then panic took him and he fought the restraints. "I keep asking for water!" he shouted repeatedly. When he felt his skin tearing, he forced himself to be calm. They wouldn't let him die. Someone would come.

"I'll take the pills, just get me out!" His vision was blurring. _God it was hot_. Fear flooded him in waves, his face was burning. He sobbed. His breathing and heart raced. So he counted. Ten, nine, eight, seven... Jay Lowery. He didn't want to be Jay Lowery. He didn't want to be lying in Rodger's morgue with Eames looking down at him. Where is Eames? _Eames! _

"Ten, nine, eight... Ten, nine, eight..." Panic rose again. It was so hot. He had to get out. He rolled his head side to side. The leather cut his skin. _What comes after eight?_ He shouted his fear...

* * *

Alex remembered hearing her feet slap the floor, but she wasn't fully awake until she was beside him.

Bobby was frightened. She'd never heard that timbre in his voice. In the dim light, she saw him lying rigid on the bed, light reflecting from the sheen of his sweat-soaked face. He was surfacing and submerging in a nightmare she was only beginning to comprehend. He had called out for water several times, which started her waking, but it was the fear in his voice that penetrated her deep sleep and had her moving with an urgency that comes upon hearing deep distress from someone you care for.

_He's fine_, she calmed the adrenalin panic in herself as she sat on the edge of the bed beside him. And physically, he seemed fine. There was no imminent danger. But fear was rising from him in waves, his breathing uneven, his muscles cyclically relaxing and tensing as he tried to calm himself.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." He was breathing heavily, as though he'd been running, but seemed satisfied he'd successfully completed his task.

"Bobby." Alex spoke calmly. There was no response.

He started counting again in his hoarse voice: "Ten, nine, eight, seven..." and then he seemed to stall, forgetting what was next, bringing a new wave of distress to crest. His hands clutched the covers.

"Bobby." She tried again.

Alex considered shaking him awake. Instead she went to the far side of his bed and scooted across so she was close to his head.

"Ten, nine, eight..." His head began to roll from side to side and his frustration and fear grew as he seemed unable to complete the simplest of tasks.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

And then his voice became quieter, the words slower, the tone tinged with hopelessness.

"Ten, nine, eight... _Eames!_", her name was almost inaudible and so forlorn that it brought a sudden stinging to her eyes.

"Eight, seven, six," Alex continued the sequence softly and firmly as she leaned near him, forcing her voice not to break.

"Eight, seven, six," he repeated after her, as a small child might repeat when learning his first numbers.

"Five, four, three", Alex continued in the same soothing voice, relieved that he was responding.

"Five, four, three", he repeated in a voice that was gradually evening.

He was briefly silent, then his body stiffened again and his breathing quickened. His head began rolling from side to side and Alex began to worry. If he started to thrash, she might have to defend herself. That was something she was totally unprepared for. Never in her darkest dreams would she have conceived a need to protect herself physically from Robert Goren.

"Five. Seven. Nine..." Alex knew what was happening as soon as she heard his voice speak the second number. Her badge number.

"No!" his voice rose as he became more agitated.

"Five, seven, nine, eight", she whispered near his ear in the calmest voice she had. "Bobby, I'm here. Everything is fine now. You're home."

"Five, seven, nine, eight", he repeated with relief in his hoarse voice. Then more quietly, "Five, seven, nine, eight".

He relaxed and his breathing slowed. Then it was almost back to normal.

His single sob broke the quiet night. Her heart twisted, the pain more acute in the endless darkness where she was robbed of her other senses.

"Eames." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He was awake and aware. She could hear it.

"Bobby, I'm here. We're fine." Alex soothed in the dark. She hoped she was disguising the devastation she was feeling to what she had just witnessed. This wasn't good. She'd felt fear when she'd been kidnapped and the fear for him at this moment was every bit as strong. This was not the same man she had known for over 8 years. What had they done to him?

"Thank you", his voice broke in the darkness, but she couldn't tell if it was from emotion or hoarseness.

"For what?", she whispered, curious to see what he'd answer. Except he didn't answer. Moments passed. His breathing was even. She assumed he had fallen back to sleep. And then he spoke.

" I couldn't control the situation", he confessed. "I thought...I was losing my mind. I thought. I was going to die. Alone.

"Thank you. For saving me." He spoke into the night with the ease for sharing intimacy that comes in the darkness. "Thank you for not leaving me alone".

Yes, this would be Robert Goren's deepest fears: The loss of his freedom and his sanity. His inability to control the situation. But his fear of being alone was confirmation of what she suspected. He had just shared his deepest fears with her and perhaps for the first time realized those fears for himself. Since she had no words, her fingertips found his fingertips with the lightest of touch. She was glad he couldn't see her suddenly twisted face as she reached out to him holding back her own sob. She rubbed his fingertips with the tips of her own. When he didn't pull away, she slid her palm across his. Locking their thumbs together she pulled his arm to her chest and rested her cheek on the back of his hand.

"It's okay. Everything will be okay." She rubbed his arm slowly and gently with her other hand, avoiding the bandaged wrist. He didn't resist. He didn't move.

What did he need? She was sure he'd never been coddled. He was used to standing on his own. Everyone he'd loved had always deserted him. She was sure Frances had loved him, but she may have been unable to convey it and so had deserted him emotionally. She had never figured out the type of woman he gravitated toward. His women had never lasted long. As far as she knew there had been no one in years. What did he need to sooth him? What could she do for him? She was at a loss. So she decided she would do what he'd just thanked her for. She would not leave him alone.

After a couple of minutes, she decided practicality would be her next action and she suggested he should get up. "Let's change your bed, your sheets are soaked."

"Yeah," was his quiet reply. Had he expected or wanted something else?

"You go have a shower and I'll change the bed."

"Uh. Yeah."

He didn't immediately release himself from her grip, then with a small sigh, he pulled away, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He stopped in front of his dresser and pulled some things from a drawer. He didn't look back as he left the dark room and flicked on the hall light. Alex caught a glimpse of the Policeman boxers as he disappeared out of sight. She couldn't smile about it right now, but it was noted for later.

Alex exhaled a huge sigh, then stood and switched on the bedroom light. The room smelled of musky dampness. She raised the blind and cracked the window open wider and looked out into the dark quiet street. The loudest sound was the buzzing of the street light. Snow had begun to fall and the world was muffled. As muffled as New York could ever be. She was stripping the sheets and blankets off the bed as she heard the shower rumble through the walls. Now where would the fresh sheets be?

She found them with the towels in the hall closet on shelves beside his stacking washer and dryer. The only problem was they were up so high that Alex brought a kitchen chair over to accomplish her task. She had noticed the laundry hamper in the bathroom, but opted for putting the bedding straight into the washer. She resisted turning on the washing machine. She wondered if she'd hear a scream from the bathroom if she stole all the hot water... The sheets were heavy. She couldn't imagine sweating this much. He must have lost several pounds. She better make sure he drank some more water before he went back to bed. Being busy made her feel better - and useful.

As she remade the bed, Alex realized that for Bobby, this was not going to be over when his body healed. The physical abuse would mend quickly, but the mental trauma would linger. They say there is fine line between genius and insanity. _Oh, geez_. Alex put her hands to her forehead and rubbed hard. She was sure she was seeing the first symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She could already foresee days of patiently waiting outside Dr. Olivet's office, in much the same way as he had so sweetly waited for her to finish her post-trauma counselling sessions after the kidnapping. No one could keep her from being there for him. The last corner of the fitted sheet snapped into place. She knew that victims needed to keep talking about their experiences in order to de-sensitize and distance themselves from the trauma. Tomorrow, or rather later today, would be soon enough for that. She hoped getting him to talk would not be like pulling teeth. He kept so much bottled up. It seemed she was the only one who bothered to be fine-tuned to Robert Goren and sensitive enough to notice or to care about his innermost feelings. For whatever reason, it wasn't right that such an amazing man, rich with insight and intellect and empathy, should be so alone.

Right now, her instincts wanted to wrap him up and insulate him from anything that would hurt him. Day to day, she thought she did a pretty good job of watching out for him and keeping him grounded when he needed it. But she couldn't insulate him from himself. This time he'd been his own worst enemy. And she'd enabled him. She sat down suddenly on the edge of the bed, overwhelmed with dismay that she had contributed to what he was experiencing. She rubbed her forehead again. Well, it did no good for both of them to be a mess. She'd allowed him to get into this. Now she better fix it. She was beginning to feel like a guardian angel and wondered if such an entity would carry a Glock.

As Alex waited for Bobby to finish his shower, she sat on the edge of the bed and observed his room. She didn't feel guilty prying into her partner's personal life under these circumstances; Goren would do the same if the tables were turned. A tiny frown unexpectedly crossed her face. She stood up and walked over to the high dresser. On its surface, covered in a fresh layer of dust, were several shallow bowls holding loose change, safety pins, odd keys and tie clips. His cell phone charger was a paper weight for a bookstore coupon. Some cards he had emptied from his wallet before giving it to Alex, were stacked neatly as they awaited his return - and the end of William Brady. Unlike Bobby, Alex didn't find it necessary to touch the trappings of another person's life. But it was none of these items which interested her. What had drawn her over was a small framed photo. A curious gentle smile spread across Alex's face as she stared into her own over-serious eyes. Close beside her in the photo was Bobby's face. He looked out at the camera with hooded eyes and a non-expression that was all understated Robert Goren at his cheekiest. The Polaroid had been snapped at the Cafe Brazil while they questioned the staff. She had seen the little glance Goren had given her as she questioned the waitress, but had been completely stunned when he turned the camera around, held it at long arm's length and bent over so swiftly to take her by surprise. Her instant reflex was to recoil from his closeness was overpowered by her awareness of how that might look to the staff at the cafe. The result was not her best pose. She looked like she was wearing a mask. Funny that he had kept this photo. And valued it enough to put in a frame. It was just a Polaroid. Ephemeral. Fading, like the moment had. Alex rested the butt of her fist on the dresser surface and touched the frame with the tip of her finger. Ephemeral, indeed. Almost another life. In retrospect the Polaroid, rather than a reminder of a fleeting moment, had become enduring evidence of their entwined lives in happier times. Right now, she could use more of these triggers to remind herself that life had not always been so serious. But there were precious few physical mementos.

Alex felt a strong surge of longing for the relationship they'd had in their early days, back when she had finally relaxed and begun to appreciate her partner. She and Goren played well together. One of their first "undercover" trips had been to the John Lobb shoe store. She had had a hard time keeping a straight face. If Goren had done that limp wrist or the nasally voice one more time, she might have blown their cover. The more flamboyant he got, the drippier she got. _Darling_, he'd called her. She'd almost choked. _We made a good team_, she smiled to herself.

She wondered if she'd ever see him do another little singing dance like the time he played delivery boy. That little dance outside the target house had been his way to check that everyone was in place. She had been able to see and hear him out the back window of the SWAT van and in spite of the adrenalin pumping and the seriousness of the situation, she couldn't stop her smile. This man never ceased to surprise her. He was so good at playing a part and seemed to love doing it. Interesting things happened when they took on a role, when they stepped outside their cop personas. They had perfected the obstinate married couple. He always allowed her to lead on those occasions and played the hen-pecked husband to perfection. She would never forget their trip to the flooring center just after her return from maternity leave. She didn't think they'd ever done it so well as that day, they were completely in sync. She had had a ball and could tell from the look in his eyes that he was having just as much fun. The salesman had fed her the perfect opportunity as he schmoozed Goren with a "Good to know who wears the pants in the family", to which she'd replied, "I just wear the badge". The pure satisfaction on Goren's face as he crossed his arms and looked at the salesman now brought a smile to her lips. There was no question that was a great day.

One time she thought he'd enjoyed himself a little too much. The day she had posed for her portrait by their leading suspect, a street artist on Columbus Avenue, Goren had moved in between them to "hit" on Alex in order to engage the man. Goren had laid on the charm so thickly, seeming so honest and open, that she had become incredibly uncomfortable. To her horror, she had blushed. He had noted it and knew full well that a blush couldn't be faked. _Bastard!_

He often used to banter with her about things like selling apples in front of city hall and when in a mood, would bring her coffee laced with what tasted like a pound of sugar. But he had lost that playfulness somewhere along the way. Occasionally now he would toss out a snark, practically taking the words out of her mouth, but those were becoming few and far between, too. Life had become far too serious. They seemed to get hit with one thing after another in the last year or so. _Bobby, I miss you. Are you still there? _She wondered if he was still capable of playing. But she was sure there would be no play until he healed physically and mentally.

Alex's thoughts were interrupted by the thump of plumbing and the shower stopping. She turned from the dresser, picked up the glass on the bedside table and padded to the kitchen in her bare feet, leaving foot-shaped condensation outlines on the cold floor. She turned on the water, let it run to cold and filled his glass.

Goren came out of the bathroom engulfed in a cloud of fragrant steam. He was now wearing a white t-shirt and old plaid lounging pants and was vigorously rubbing his head with a towel. When he pulled it off, try as she might, she couldn't stop the raising of her eyebrows and covered her mouth with a hand. Seeing her standing with her one hand on her hip, he merely raised his own eyebrow at her and returned to the bathroom mirror. Leaning back with knees deeply bent to position himself below the condensation line, he rapidly tamed his short unruly hair with a few pulls of the brush. _Too bad he hadn't shaved_, she thought.

At least that had broken the ice. She wasn't sure how to interact with him after what had just happened.

"Come here", she ordered and he complied. Alex opened a drawer where she had found scissors.

"Wrist", she commanded and he obediently held out his arm while she cut the hospital bracelet off and carefully laid it on the counter. _Brady, William_ was done with. They both looked at it and then at each other, the same thought shared by two.

Alex handed him the glass of water, noting that he'd removed all the bandages covering his wrists and ankles to have a shower. _Ouch._

"Drink", she commanded again.

He tilted his head forward and attempted a glower at her bossiness, but did as he was told, downing the whole glass at once. Alex took the glass, re-filled it and handed it back to him.

"Encore." And he downed another. _Wow_. She re-filled it once more and handed it to him.

"Are you going to try to sleep again?" Alex asked, an uncertain look on her face. He nodded his reply. She followed him to the bedroom door and leaned against the frame. She wondered if she should force him to talk right now, wondered if she'd have the nerve to do it in the daylight. She couldn't let this slide past. But he looked exhausted. It would wait.

"Just call if you need anything." She couldn't tell what his expression meant as he looked down at her. He nodded again.

Alex returned to the couch, switching off the lights as she went. She lay down, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. As her body tried to relax, she began to notice every little sound the building made. The snow outside muffled the street sounds to near silence. She was alert for any sounds from the bedroom, but heard nothing. She counted the ticks of the clock in Goren's kitchen and in spite of her exhaustion, sleep eluded her.

Long ago she'd teased Goren that men come and go, but diamonds... Other than her family and Joe, only this man had been there since their first day together.

Alex gathered up her blanket and pillow, padded silently into the bedroom and curled up on the empty side of the large bed beside her partner. Goren was right. Diamonds don't keep you warm at night.

She fell asleep to the even rhythm of his quiet breathing.

* * *

Many thanks to my beta reader who long ago suggested the scenario of Eames "counting" assistance in the waking of Goren. I hope I wrote it as well as you'd imagined.

At least one more chapter to come!


	14. Reveal

14. Reveal

**A man does what he must – in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures – and that is the basis of all human morality." - John F. Kennedy**

He surfaced slowly from his dreamless sleep. He knew he was safe. He knew he was home. He rubbed his head against his pillow for the last tiny bit of reassurance before opening his eyes. But he didn't need to open his eyes to know she was there. Her soft breaths were hardly audible, but she radiated gentle heat that was so comforting he had to sigh. He turned his head to look at her and his lips curved only slightly as if any greater a smile might waken her. He was glad she was here.

Alex lay on her side facing him, huddled in the blanket from the couch. Ropes of honey blonde hair cascaded over the blanket and coiled on the pillow. Her face was mostly buried in the folds of the blanket hidden from him. One hand lay exposed, palm up, fingers gently curled. Vulnerable. Trusting. Her other hand stretched out from the comfort and warmth and ventured into a less certain place. It rested on his bare arm. It must have been there for quite a while, because without moving, he would not have realized it was there. One set of her toes peeked from under the blanket.

He watched her for a long time, feeling he might need to hold this memory close during the coming weeks. It occurred to him with surprise that what he was feeling was probably contentment. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that way. And his partner was responsible. She crossed some huge barriers in the last few days. Barriers that they'd both built over the last seven years. Barriers they had needed in order to maintain their precious working relationship. He was happy there were changes happening. They seemed to be on the brink of something.

He checked the clock on the dresser and noted it was 10 a.m. Next to the clock was the photo from the Café Brazil. He wondered if she had noticed it last night and if so, what she had thought. He felt a little embarrassed at having been caught being sentimental. Oh well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Perhaps the admission of preserving the photo was a good thing.

His thoughts could not stay away from the serious situation at hand any longer. He needed to find Donny and the first place to start was with Frank. But he doubted Frank really knew Donny very well or would know where Donny might go to hide. But Donny might just contact Frank. Bobby had gotten a pretty good read on Donny the few times he'd talked to him, but didn't know enough background to anticipate what he'd do. He needed to get Donny back in custody to mitigate the damage he'd done. He had given him more credit than he should have. Escaping from Tates was going to cause serious repercussion to his sentence when he was caught. It would be far better if he could find him and convince him to turn himself in. He couldn't trust Frank to tell Donny that basic common sense. He couldn't imagine what Frank would suggest.

He needed to get his report about Tates completed and submitted and get that warden put somewhere she could never hurt another person. Finding the right words for that might take him some creative thoughts. After all, he and the warden were suppose to be on the same side. It had to be done soon. If Donny surrendered and ended back up in Tates and his connection to William Brady ever surfaced, Tates would be a very dangerous place for him. That warden had to go. So much to do…..

There was also the fallout from his unauthorized entry into Tates to deal with. There were two ways that it could go. He could lose his job, which he doubted or he would be touted a hero, which he also doubted. Somewhere down the middle would suit him just fine.

He frowned. But what about Eames? He would have denied she helped him in any way. But once she had brought Ross into the mix, that possibility went out the window. Ross was not going to back him in any way, shape or form. Yes, Ross had accompanied Eames to Tates and had been instrumental in his release. In fact, the Captain had saved his life. He guessed Ross didn't dislike him enough to let him die. It had never occurred to him that he would actually need to implement a back-up plan should his time in Tates go bad. He had been full of such confidence in his plan that Eames' assistance should not have been required at all. If only he could have relied on Frank, then he wouldn't have needed Eames and she would have been safely distanced from the events.

He wished Eames could have left Ross out of it. Not for him, but for herself. She would have known that Ross's involvement would put her in a professionally vulnerable position, yet she did it anyway. What was she thinking? He guessed she had done it as a last resort. She must have felt Ross's rank was the key to unlocking him from Tates and she had used it.

As he returned to watching her sleep, he gave his head a little shake against the pillow, once again silently apologizing to her. At least here in his own bedroom, he didn't have to be subversive to watch her sleep, there were no uniforms around to interrupt this small pleasure. Eames in his bed. _Whew_. That was one he couldn't have anticipated. It'd been a long time since he'd shared a bed with a woman. And usually it wasn't here. The day Eames had been kidnapped she had become the center of his universe. He hadn't had much interest in any woman for some time before, but afterwards, he had no interest in anyone but her. He still had nightmares about those hours she was gone.

He'd kicked himself that he'd been so cool to her when he saw her in the hospital after her kidnapping. The only clue he'd given to his distress had been that he "looked like hell" according to her, but he wasn't sure she'd understood the significance of his disarray. He'd done a good job compartmentalizing his feelings during those few minutes before she fell asleep. When he sat down beside her, he had noted her bandaged head, her struggle to be lighthearted with her observation of his appearance and her bandaged wrists, a testament to her restraints.

With a jolt he thought rocked the bed, he realized she would understand the emotional scars of captivity he'd just experienced, as he could now begin to comprehend her ordeal as more than just an intellectual observation. He swallowed a lump in his throat and resisted a fantasy of taking her in his arms and trying to wipe away every memory associated with those days. But they would both forever carry the physical and mental scars of their imprisonments. It was becoming part of who they were.

That day she came back to him, Alex had quickly volunteered all the information about her abduction in a few short words. She knew he would need the information to catch her abductor. She'd even silently answered his last question with a frown just as the powerful drugs she'd been given snatched her away from him. Eames then lay completely relaxed. As she became quiet, the monotonous beeping of the monitors and the muffled background sounds of the bustling Emergency Ward seemed louder.

Goren had looked around to see if Eames' guard detail was within view, then slowly reached out his hand to hers. Suddenly she gasped and with eyes shock-wide sat completely upright and would have pitched out of the bed if he hadn't caught her. The flash of terror on her face as she rocketed towards him shocked him. She slammed against him as he came up from his sitting position. As suddenly as she had sat up she collapsed, head against him, arms limp. If she'd been awake she could easily have heard his heart hammering in his chest. He didn't want to put her down and disturb all the wire and monitors and assumed a nurse or doctor would be running in right away to help lay her back down, but no one came. She hadn't set off any alarms, so he perched on the side of the bed and continued to hold her. A long minute ticked by. Then another. He rested his cheek carefully on top of her head, seeing the streaks of dried blood in her hair up close. He closed his eyes and tightened his hold on her, inhaled her scent, reassured that it was not for the last time. This was no longer a mechanical embrace necessary to prevent her from tumbling to the floor, it was an embrace of tenderness, sublime relief, thanksgiving and maybe even hope. Both his arms encircled her; one hand held her head against his chest and the other, with his fingers caught under her hospital gown caressed the exquisitely soft skin of her naked back. As the minutes ticked by he relaxed into the embrace and a slow tear squeezed from the corner of his eye, rolled down the side of his nose, clinging to its tip until gravity pulled it into the strands of her bloodied hair. No one was ever the wiser. Not even Eames knew the comfort she had unknowingly given him in those few minutes.

Once again he shook his head casting aside the memory. She had come back from the kidnapping and continued to work with him. He was a lucky man. She was an amazingly strong person. He'd seen guys that couldn't come back from similar traumas. The guilt he carried because he'd been unable to find and save her was a continuing reminder to more carefully tend their relationship.

He started to roll on his side and reach out to her, to once again seek the comfort of holding her in his arms. But then stopped. This was not the time. This time she would be awake. Maybe there never would be a time. He didn't know what he'd do if he reached out to her and she were to look at him in horror. He wouldn't be able to stand the pain of rejection, the feeling of stupidity and the crush of feelings.

It was far better to maintain the status quo than to ruin everything they had. The only time he really felt secure with Eames, that she was almost part of him, was when they were deeply involved in a case and their partnering became a wonderful dance of entrapment.

The time finally came when he had to get up. As Lewis would say, his back teeth were singing _Anchors Away._ He was going to have to extract his arm. As he slowly and carefully pulled away, she stirred and began to raise her head.

"It's all right", he spoke quietly to her in his husky voice. "Little Boy's Room..."

"Come right back", she whispered and nestled her head deeper into the pillow.

Music to a man's ears... It was with great reluctance that he left the warmth and comfort of the bed. He continued to watch her as he slid out of bed and went quietly to the door.

But he wouldn't be coming back. Her only reason to ask him to return was so she could monitor him. He couldn't go back. Not without ruining the status quo.


	15. Retethered

15. Re-tethered

**The purpose of dancing isn't to end up at a particular spot on the floor. The purpose of dancing and of life is to enjoy every moment and every step, regardless of where you are when the music ends.****  
~****Dr. Wayne Dyer**

_There's a lady in the house_, he thought as he lowered the toilet seat. He went into the kitchen and flicked the radio on and lowered the volume. Eames could use some more sleep. It seemed he'd done nothing but sleep for days. He was feeling better. His muscles didn't ache so much today. The face in the bathroom mirror had been a bit frightening, but still, an improvement from yesterday.

He ran the water and filled a glass, downing it in one go. He pulled the coffee he'd ground before he left from the freezer and went through his coffee making routine. He made a full pot knowing Eames would need her morning fix of caffeine. He wondered if he'd get his favourite reaction. A smile tugged at his lips as he unconsciously raised an eyebrow.

What had Eames bought for groceries? He rummaged in the fridge and decided on just toast. He'd fix them both a real breakfast when she woke up.

As he waited for the coffee and toast, he checked his voice mail. Only a reminder from the dentist. Nothing from Frank. Eames had obviously been here while he was in Tates as there was a neat pile of mail on the table. He poured himself a coffee and flipped through the pile. Bills. _Welcome home, Goren_. The stack of envelopes made a slapping sound as they returned unopened onto the table.

He poured himself a coffee and went into the livingroom and flicked on CNN, which is where Eames found him. She entered the livingroom doorway wrapped in her blanket, her hair spilling over the top, her head bent down as she squinted in the light. He watched her with amused affection. She flopped down on the other end of the couch and pulled the blanket even more tightly around her. A huge yawn threatened to dislocate her jaw and he couldn't stop the growing smile any longer. This certainly wasn't the Eames he was used to seeing.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing." He said, curling the corners of his mouth down, denying any amusement.

"Your lips must be better. Too bad."

_Whew! Cranky!_ She was usually more of a morning person than this.

"Why don't you go back to bed?" he suggested.

"Mmmph". Alex stood up and dropped the blanket. She snatched two of the Skittles he'd left on the coffee table last night and headed for the bathroom. Goren couldn't help but watch her departure, her muscular calves and long thighs topped by his t-shirt, which had taken on a fascinating new shape as it hitched up on one of her hips.… He returned to the news feeling like he'd been gone a long time.

But as Alex walked by the kitchen, the smell of coffee pulled her in. She opened a series of cupboards trying to recall the location of the mugs and found them up on the second shelf up above the glasses. _Figures_. She planted her palms on the counter and was boosting herself up when out of no where an arm slipped smoothly around her waist. Before she could even utter a sound, she was hanging on Bobby's hip, her hands scrabbling for balance as he swung her away from the counter then slowly lowered her feet to the floor and released her.

"Just ask", he stated. "You don't need to break your neck". Alex turned around to glare up at him. Obviously her humor had not improved.

"You are a little bit of a thing" he observed down at her, which increased the glare and the squaring of her jaw. He was as surprised he'd said it as she was to hear it, but without shoes she didn't even come to his shoulder height.

"At least there's air down here", she retorted. "And your counter is nothing Goren, I can climb walls when necessary".

Suddenly he was deadly serious. "I know. I saw the blood trail", with reference to her escape from Jo Gage.

"Yeah, I bet. People were dying to get out of that place." She snarked darkly, attempting her traditional sarcasm to hopefully ended that line of conversation she hadn't meant to start.

Bobby silently reached over and past her to take a mug out of the cupboard, then turned to fill it with coffee.

Alex was reaching for the sugar when Bobby grabbed her wrist. He pulled her quickly and firmly towards him and she slammed into his solid body in confusion. Then the fingers of both her hands were trapped in his and she was being shoved away from him. Back in to slam his body again, then she was moving away and one hand was released. She was spinning back then slamming into him yet again. She couldn't believe this. They were dancing – or rather she was dancing. He was hardly moving. What had come over him? Here she was spinning and twisting wearing virtually nothing but his Academy t-shirt. This was the last thing she expected. He'd been lucky she hadn't kneed him!

As she was flung away from him one more time, she realized it was Abba playing on the radio. _Take a Chance on Me. _ Goren was never going to let her forget about that Abba fan card she'd confessed to having as a kid. And then she was clasped tightly in his arms, her head over his heart and they were twirling together around his kitchen. He knew exactly how much room he had and where he was going, as though he'd done it a thousand times.

_If you need me, let me know, gonna be around__. _

Alex threw her head back to look up at him and her hair flew out behind her. Her surprised smile lit her glowing face. All traces of sleep and grumpiness had vanished.

_I've never seen anything so beautiful_, he thought as he smiled down at her face just below his. His smile was so broad that his cheeks were dimpled. He didn't even care that his chapped lips were cracking. He was loving every second of this. She was easy to move around and offered no resistance at all once she had realized what he was doing.

Then he twirled her away from him and back again. Now he had one large had on each of her hips and was moving her forward rotating her hips as she stepped towards him.

_If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down__…_

He spun her one way, stopped her and spun her in the other direction. The unexpected change had her laughing with delight. He spun her towards him again, their arms tangled, then her back was cradled against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she lost her breath. She was so short, he had to bend over so they were cheek to cheek as they continued moving as one. Almost as quickly she was away from him again, in a never ending blur of motion. Just as she thought they were losing the tether that bound them, at the last split second he would firmly grasp her hand and pull her back to him.

His playfulness was infectious and combined with some of her favourite music, her relief from the strain of the past days lifted her to a wildly joyful response to his moves. For a few short moments she felt released from burdens, like a teenager again, full of anticipation of life to come, and threw herself into a carefree celebration of movement.

_If you change your mind, I'm the first in line__…_

Goren could hardly believe what he was seeing. The one time he'd watched her dance, she'd been stiff and self-conscious and across the dance floor, he'd teased her by catching her eye before spinning his partner, Margie Timmons. Alex had tripped shortly after watching his show off. The woman now in his arms was a completely different creature.

_Honey I'm still free  
Take a chance on me  
If you need me, let me know, gonna be around_

As the last strains of the song died away, he pulled her into him and smiled down at her. He could feel her chest rising and falling against him. Her flushed face looked up with absolute joy. He had never seen his partner like this and wondered why on earth she would live alone. She was absolutely stunning like this.

It had been a long time since Alex had been held so closely by a man and this was very very nice. Sweeter than anything, because a few days ago she hadn't known if she would ever be able to talk to him, much less be so … _alive_ with him again. He had such beautifully dark warm eyes that were so close to hers she could easily see them dilate.

Alex was nose to nose with the unguarded Robert Goren. And it was intoxicating.

She began to rise up on her toes and tilt her head, then remembered his ruined lips and stopped. As their eyes held, her smile began to fade with uncertainty, mirrored by the look in her eyes. That was not an expression he saw from her very often, so he let her off the hook with a flippant comment.

"At least they didn't play _Waterloo_" he said with a wry smile, hinting at possible outcomes from his Tates folly. Then he loosened his grip on her.

"Well I'm going for my Waterloo" as she hastily pulled away from him, turned and headed for the bathroom. She wasn't ready to use that segue into the conversation they must soon have.

"What about your coffee?" he asked as she walked away.

Without looking back, she replied, "I'll just have the barista make me a fresh one."

He quietly _humphed_ and shot back "He might be busy!" to the closing door.

* * *

Goren was making the second pot of coffee as Alex came out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following her.

"You need a better fan, Goren", she commented. He was rather disappointed that Alex was no longer in his t-shirt, but had dressed. _Probably just as well_. As she approached him she tossed him the lip ointment then resumed scrunching her hair with a towel. He was happy just to watch.

When she was finished, he handed her a mug of hot fresh coffee.

"I don't need to dance for this one?", she raised a teasing eyebrow at him. The radio station had switched to rap. He shook his head.

They had business to discuss and she felt more comfortable being completely dressed. It was almost like her serious objective persona slipped into place with her clothing.

Alex unexpectedly reached over to Bobby and gently pinched the skin on the back of his hand. His flesh returned to normal quickly, no longer holding the pucker of a person suffering from dehydration. It was his turn to raise an eyebrow in amusement. "Thinking of changing careers?" he asked, suggesting that nursing might be next on her list of accomplishments.

"I hope I don't have to", Alex replied in a cautious voice, tinged with worry.

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen", he said firmly. "I'll deny you had anything to do with it. I'm not sure what we'll do about Ross, though. When does he want to meet with me?"

"As soon as you can. I told him it wouldn't be for at least 48 hours. I'm going to phone him shortly."

One of the first things Ross had ever told her was to keep Goren in check. She really didn't understand and it had always worried her where he had gotten such an impression of Goren. She guessed the Chief of D's. Why did he dislike Goren so much? Was it professional jealousy or just incomprehension of Goren's work methods? She wished she could predict how far the effects of Goren's actions were going to go.

"What are you thinking?" she asked over the rim of the mug she held in both hands. She needed to know his game plan and she was pretty sure he already had one. If this was going to play out like one of their cases, she needed to know at least the skeleton of his strategy. She badly wanted to fix this for him.

"I'm not sure yet", he replied as he walked to the livingroom to sit down. It seemed this was going to be their "war room".

"There are quite a few moving parts, aren't there?", he said, seeming to ask her agreement. "We need to learn all we can about the warden", he stated, with the unspoken implication that Alex would be doing that research. He told her the obscure department where she would be able to access information easily without trouble. Alex looked at him and shook her head, not even trying to conceal her wonder.

"No matter how long I work with you, you never cease to amaze me. How do you know that?" she asked and was surprised that the crooked smile he flashed her was tinged with shyness. She guessed it was because she'd openly complimented him. Usually her response was just an eye roll if it was really obscure trivia.

Her compliment caused him discomfort. He could never seem to shut his mouth and always ended up telling her minute details about things. That penchant didn't stop at the elevator at 1PP either. He saw it as a huge flaw in his personality and felt lucky that she accepted those know-it-all comments. He could never seem to stop himself but he hadn't caught her rolling her eyes in a long time – at least not so he could see.

Alex had resumed her place on the couch, nursing her cup of coffee and gently blowing the rising steam to cool it. She looked at him seriously.

"I need to know everything, Bobby", said Alex firmly. "From the time you went into Tates, till you came out. Then we'll need to figure out what everyone is going to do under all conditions in the aftermath."

This was what Goren was so superb, and incredibly fast at. He worked things out by predicting human behaviour and he then adjusted to whatever was coming at him. Mostly it was logical prediction of behaviour based on quick determination of personality types, but the other part was using his "magic gut" as Deakins would have termed it; his intuition.

Goren sat silently with his thoughts while Alex waited patiently for him to start sharing. He didn't have enough background to predict Donny, so he needed whatever knowledge Frank could share. Frank and Ross he could predict in this instance. He hoped he couldn't predict the Chief of D's because it wouldn't be favourable. Alex he could predict in work situations; that's what made their predatorial dances so successful. But outside the office, it was hard, if not impossible to anticipate her. He would never be completely sure of Alex Eames. After the last few days, predicting her would be even harder, as so many of her actions had been completely unexpected. He paused his thoughts and his eyes slid towards Alex. _Beautifully unexpected._ It left him wanting to know more and yet afraid.

Alex suddenly put her coffee down on the table and pulled her phone out of her pocket where it had been vibrating. She wasn't quite ready to enter the real world again unless she had to. It was her sister. Alex let it go to voicemail and then checked the message. She would only respond if it was urgent. And it was.

"Bobby, I have to go for a bit. Liz needs me."

Goren nodded his understanding without needing the details.

"It won't be long. Don't go anywhere. I promised the doctor I'd be with you", she frowned. He said nothing.

"Call me right away if you need me", she said. Alex shook her head with concern at being pulled in two directions, but in typical Eames style she had quickly chosen the most reasonable course of action.

Goren watched her with eyes that consumed all the details. In an instant he had been given the opportunity that he wanted. He would not be there when she returned. And in the following seconds of that decision he felt bereft. It was over. Their time together as the rest of the world seemed to stand still for them was vanishing. But not as though it had never existed. He would keep it as a sweet memory woven into a tumultuous time, forever embedded in his mind. Could or would they ever be able to recapture the intimacy? He didn't know. He memorized her every move as she reached for her jacket, slid it on and unconsciously patted her pockets and belt. She made sure she had everything she came with.

With a quick smile, she opened the door.

"Fluids. Lots of them." She ordered as she looked back at him. "I should have you measure the output…. I can't believe I just said that", as she struggled to suppress a smile. Goren said nothing.

"Two hours", she said just before she closed the door after observing his confirming nod. _This is a mistake_, she thought. _He won't be here when I get back._ Goren wasn't the only one who could predict human behaviour.

Well then, she would just wait. He would come back to her. She wouldn't imagine a world without him.

Alex strode swiftly to the driver's side of the rented SUV, her mind in transition from her partner to her sister. She remotely unlocked the vehicle before reaching for the handle. It was a bright, cold day for November, the sun attempting to regain some of its summer youth by melting the night time snowfall. As she reached over to put the key in the ignition, a flash of reflected light struck her.

Alex looked up and leaned away from the steering wheel. Her expression softened. Suspended from the rear view mirror was her missing necklace, the tiny cross winking its presence as it spun in the sunlight.

* * *

For these two, life will get harder before it gets better...

A huge thanks to all those who have read and especially those who have commented on Re-tethered and urged me to continue. I had never written anything before this and have appreciated your comments and encouragement immensely.

A special thanks to my beta, who is not a shipper, but has patiently made corrections and comments without judgment. You are my gem!


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